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DRAWN   BY  HEi 


GEORGE    KENNAN. 


LNGH-^Vt-J    DY    I      JOHNSON. 


SIBERIA  AND  THE 
EXILE  SYSTEM 


^ 


BY    GEORGE    KEN/nAN 


i^y%   s^ 


NEW  YORK 

THE   CENTURY  CO. 

1891 


Copyright,  1891,  by 
The  Century  Co. 


The  De  Vinne  Press. 


LIBRARY 
^^  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

7  5"  S  SANTA  BARBARA 


PREFACE 

ry^HE  idea  of  exploring  some  of  the  less  known  parts  of  Siberia, 
JL-  and  of  making,  in  connection  with  such  exploration,  a  care- 
ful study  of  the  exile  system,  first  took  definite  form  in  my  mind 
in  the  year  1879.  From  such  observations  as  I  had  been  able  to 
make  during  a  residence  of  two  and  a  half  years  in  the  country, 
and  a  subsequent  journey  of  five  thousand  miles  overland  to  St. 
Petersburg,  it  seemed  to  me  that  Siberia  offered  to  a  competent  in- 
vestigator an  extremely  interesting  and  promising  field  of  research. 
To  the  Russians,  who  had  possessed  it  in  whole  or  in  part  for  near- 
ly three  centuries,  it  was,  of  course,  comparatively  familiar  ground; 
but  to  the  average  American,  at  that  time,  it  was  almost  as  much 
a  terra  incognita  as  central  Africa  or  Thibet.  In  1881  the  assas- 
sination of  Alexander  II.,  and  the  exile  of  a  large  number  of  Rus- 
sian revolutionists  to  the  mines  of  the  Trans-Baikal,  increased  my 
interest  in  Siberia  and  intensified  my  desire  not  only  to  study  the 
exile  system  on  the  ground,  but  to  investigate  the  Russian  revolu- 
tionary movement  in  the  only  part  of  the  empire  where  I  thought 
such  an  investigation  could  successfully  be  made, — namely,  in  the 
region  to  which  the  revolutionists  themselves  had  been  banished. 
It  seemed  to  me  a  hopeless  task  to  look  for  nihilists  in  the  cities  of 
St.  Petersburg  and  Moscow,  or  to  seek  there  an  explanation  of  the 
political  events  and  the  social  phenomena  that  interested  me.  Most 
of  the  leading  actors  in  the  revolutionary  drama  of  1878-79  were  al- 
ready in  Siberia ;  and  if  the  imperial  police  could  not  discover  the 
few  who  stiU  remained  at  large  in  European  Russia,  it  was  not  at 
all  likely  that  I  could.  In  Siberia,  however,  communication  with 
exiled  nihilists  might  perhaps  be  practicable  ;  and  there,  if  any- 
where, was  to  be  obtained  the  information  that  I  desired. 


IV  PREFACE 

Circninstanees,  and  the  want  of  time  aud  means  for  such  an  ex- 
t(Mided  journey  as  I  wished  to  make,  prevented  me  from  taking  any 
dotiuite  stops  in  the  matter  until  the  summer  of  1884,  when  the^ 
editor  of  The  Century  Magazine  became  interested  in'lny  plans, 
and  proposed  to  me  that  I  should  go  to  Siberia  for  that  periodical 
and  give  to  it  the  results  of  my  work,  I  thereupon  made  a  prelim- 
inary excursion  to  St.  Petersburg  and  Moscow  for  the  purpose  of 
collecting  material  and  ascertaining  whether  or  not  obstacles  were 
likely  to  be  thrown  in  my  way  by  the  Russian  Government.  I  re- 
turned in  October,  fully  satisfied  that  my  scheme  was  a  practicable 
one ;  that  there  was  really  nothing  in  Siberia  which  needed  con- 
cealment;  and  that  my  literary  record  —  so  far  g,s  I  had  made  a 
record — was  such  as  to  predispose  the  Russian  Government  in  my 
favor,  and  to  secure  for  me  all  the  facilities  that  a  friendly  investi- 
gator might  reasonably  expect. 

The  opinions  which  I  held  at  that  time  with  regard  to  the  Siber- 
ian exile  system  and  the  treatment  of  political  offenders  by  the 
Russian  Government  were  set  forth  fully  and  frankly  in  an  address 
that  I  delivered  before  the  American  Geographical  Society  of 
New  York,  in  1882,  and  in  the  newspaper  controversy  to  which  that 
address  gave  rise.  I  then  believed  that  the  Russian  Government 
aud  the  exile  system  had  been  greatly  misrepresented  by  such  writ- 
ers as  Stepniak  and  Prince  Kropotkin ;  that  Siberia  was  not  so 
terrible  a  country  as  Americans  had  always  supposed  it  to  be ;  and 
that  the  descriptions  of  Siberian  mines  and  prisons  in  the  just-pub- 
lished book  of  the  Rev.  Heury  LansdeU  were  probably  truthful  and 
accurate.  I  also  believed,  although  I  did  not  say,  that  the  nihilists, 
terrorists,  and  political  malcontents  generally,  who  had  so  long  kept 
Russia  in  a  state  of  alarm  and  apprehension,  were  unreasonable 
and  wrong-headed  fanatics  of  the  anarchistic  type  with  which  we 
in  the  United  States  had  become  so  familiar.  In  short,  all  my  pre- 
possessions were  favorable  to  the  Russian  Government  and  unfavor- 
able to  the  Russian  revolutionists.  I  lay  stress  upon  this  fact,  not 
because  my  opinions  at  that  time  had  intrinsically  any  particular 
weight  or  importance,  but  because  a  just  estimate  of  the  results  of 


PREFACE 


an  investigation  cannot  be  formed  without  some  knowledge  of  the 
preconceptions  and  personal  bias  of  the  investigator.     I  also  lay 
stress  upon  it  for  the  further  reason  that  it  partly  explains  the 
friendly  attitude  towards  me  which  was  taken  by  the  Russian  Gov- 
ernment, the  permission  which  was  given  me  to  inspect  prisons  and 
mines,  and  the  comparative  immunity  from  arrest,  detention,  and 
imprisonment  which  I  enjoyed,  even  when  my  movements  and  as- 
sociations were  such  as  justly  to  render  me  an  object  of  suspicion 
to  the  local  Siberian  authorities.     It  is  very  doubtful  whether  a 
traveler  who  had  not  already  committed  himself  to  views  that  the 
Government  approved  would  have  been  allowed  to  go  to  Siberia  for 
the  avowed  purpose  of  investigating  the  exile  system,  or  whether, 
if  permitted  to  go  there,  he  would  have  escaped  serious  trouble 
when  it  was  discovered  that  he  was  associating  on  terms  of  friendly 
intimacy  with  political  criminals  of  the  most  dangerous  class.     In 
my  frequent  skirmishes  with  the  police,  and  with  suspicious  local 
oflacials  in  remote  Siberian  villages,  nothing  but  the  letter  which  I 
carried  from  the  Russian  Minister  of  the  Interior  saved  me  from 
summary  arrest  and  imprisonment,  or  from  a  search  of  my  person 
and  baggage  which  probably  would  have  resulted  in  my  expulsion 
from  the  empire  under  guard  and  in  the  loss  of  aU  my  notes  and 
documentary  material.    That  letter,  which  was  my  sheet-anchor  in 
times  of  storm  and  stress,  would  never,  I  think,  have  been  given 
'  to  me,  if  I  had  not  publicly  defended  the  Russian  Government 
against  some  of  its  numerous  assailants,  and  if  it  had  not  been  be- 
lieved that  personal  pride  and  a  desire  to  seem  consistent  probably 
would  restrain  me  from  confessing  error,  even  should  I  find  the 
prison  and  exile  system  worse  than  I  anticipated,  and  worse  than  I 
had  represented  it  to  be.     How  far  this  belief  was  well  founded, 
and  to  what  extent  my  preconceived  ideas  were  in  harmony  with 
the  facts,  I  purpose,  in  the  present  work,  to  show. 

I  wish  it  to  be  clearly  understood,  however,  that  I  do  not  aim  to 
present  a  complete  and  comprehensive  picture  of  Russian  society 
as  a  whole,  nor  to  survey  every  part  of  the  vast  field  occupied  by 
the  Russian  Government,  nor  to  set  forth,  in  due  order  and  pro- 


VI  PREFACE 

portion,  all  of  the  coiiiplox,  heterogeneous  and  inter-related  facts 
and  phenomena  that  go  to  make  up  the  composite  national  life  of  a 
hundred  millions  of  people.  A  task  of  such  magnitude  would  ex- 
ceed my  strength,  and  would  carry  me  far  beyond  the  limits  that  I 
have  set  for  myself.  All  that  I  aim  to  do  is  to  give  the  reader  a 
clear  and  vivid  impression  of  the  scenery,  the  people,  and  the  cus- 
toms of  Siberia,  to  record  the  results  of  a  careful  study  of  the 
exile  system,  and  to  consider  the  attitude  of  the  Russian  Govern- 
ment toward  its  subjects  so  far — and  only  so  far — as  may  be  neces- 
sary to  throw  light  upon  the  facts,  the  characters,  or  the  events  by 
me  observed. 

Some  of  the  criticisms  that  have  been  made  upon  the  articles  on 
Siberia  and  the  exile  system  published  in  The  Century  Magazine 
have  been  based  apparently  upon  the  assumption  that  a  survey  of 
any  one  particular  department  of  national  life  must  necessarily  be 
incomplete  and  misleading,  and  that  the  fair-minded  investigator 
should  supplement  it  by  taking  into  the  field  of  vision  a  quantity 
of  unrelated  facts  and  phenomena  from  a  dozen  other  departments. 

"  Your  articles,"  certain  critics  have  said,  "  give  a  false  impres- 
sion. Your  statements  with  regard  to  Russian  prisons,  indiscrim- 
inate arrests,  and  the  banishment  of  hundreds  of  people  to  Siberia 
without  trial  may  all  be  true ;  but  there  are  in  Russia,  nevertheless, 
thousands  of  peaceful,  happy  homes,  where  fathers  and  brothers  ^ 
are  no  more  in  danger  of  being  arrested  and  exiled  to  Siberia  than 
they  would  be  if  they  lived  in  the  United  States.  Russia  is  not  a 
vast  prison  inhabited  only  by  suspects,  convicts,  and  jailors  ;  it  is 
full  of  cultivated,  refined,  kind-hearted  people ;  and  its  Emperor, 
who  is  the  embodiment  of  all  the  domestic  virtues,  has  no  higher 
aim  in  life  than  to  promote  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  his  be- 
loved subjects." 

The  obvious  reply  to  such  criticism  as  this  is  that  it  wholly  mis- 
takes the  aim  and  scope  of  the  work  criticised,  I  did  not  go  to 
Russia  to  observe  happy  homes,  nor  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
congenial,  kind-hearted  people,  nor  to  admire  the  domestic  virtues 
of  the  Tsar.    I  went  to  Russia  to  study  the  working  of  a  penal  sys- 


PREFACE  Vn 

tern,  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  exiles,  outcasts,  and  criminals, 
and  to  ascertain  bow  the  Uovernmeut  treats  its  enemies  in  the 
prisons  and  mines  of  Eastern  Siberia.     Granted,  for  the  sake  of 
argument,  that  there  are  thousands  of  happy  homes  in  Russia ;  that 
the  empii-e  does  abound  in  cultivated  and  kind-hearted  people,  and 
that  the  Tsar  is  devotedly  attached  to  his  wife  and  children ;  what 
have  these  facts  to  do  with  the  sanitary  condition  of  a  tumble-down 
etape  in  the  province  of  Yakutsk,  or  with  the  flogging  to  death  of 
a  young  and  educated  woman  at  the  mines  of  Kara?    The  balan- 
cing of  a  happy  and  kind-hearted  family  in  St.  Petersburg  against 
an  epidemic  of  typhus  fever  in  the  exile  forwarding  prison  at  Tomsk 
is  not  an  evidence  of  fairness  and  impartiality,  but  rather  an 
evidence  of  an  illogical  mind.     All  that  fairness  and  impartiality 
require  of  the  investigator  in  any  particular  field  is  that  he  shall  set 
forth,  conscientiously,  in  due  relative  proportion  and  without  pre- 
judice, all  the  significant  facts  that  he  has  been  able  to  gather  in 
that  selected  field,  and  then  that  he  shall  draw  from  the  collected 
facts  such  conclusions  as  they  may  seem  to  warrant.    His  work  may 
not  have  the  scope  of  an  encyclopedia,  but  there  is  no  reason,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  why  it  should  not  be  full,  accurate  and  trustworthy 
as  far  as  it  goes.     An  investigation  of  the  Indian  question  in  the 
United  States  would  necessarily  deal  with  a  very  small  part  of  the 
varied  and  complex  life  of  the  nation ;  but  it  might,  nevertheless, 
be  made  as  fair  and  complete,  within  its  limits,  as  Bryce's  "Ameri- 
can Commonwealth."    It  would,  perhaps,  present  a  dark  picture; 
but  to  attempt  to  lighten  it  by  showing  that  the  President  of  the 
Republic  is  a  moral  man  and  good  to  his  children,  or  that  there  are 
thousands  of  happy  families  in  New  York  that  have  not  been  driven 
from  their  homes  by  gold-seekers,  or  that  the  dwellers  on  Common- 
wealth Avenue  in  Boston  are  refined  and  cultivated  people  who 
have  never  made  a  practice  of  selling  intoxicating  liquor  to  minors, 
would  be  not  only  illogical,  but  absurd.     If  the  gloominess  of  the 
picture  is  to  be  relieved,  the  proper  way  to  relieve  it  is  to  show  what 
has  been  done  to  remedy  the  evils  that  make  it  gloomy,  and  not,  by 
any  means,  to  prove  that  in  some  other  part  of  the  country,  under 


Viii  PEEFACE 

wholly  different  eouditions,  a  picture  might  be  drawn  that  would 
be  cheerful  and  inspiriting". 

In  the  present  work  I  have  tried  to  deal  fairly  both  with  the 
Government  and  with  the  exiles.  If  the  Government's  contention 
is  not  always  set  forth  as  fully  as  may  seem  to  be  desirable,  it  is 
simply  because  most  of  the  Government  officials  to  whom  I  ap- 
plied for  information,  both  in  Siberia  and  St.  Petersburg,  either 
manifested  such  a  disinclination  to  talk  that  I  could  not  pursue 
the  subject,  or  else  made  such  transparent  and  preposterous  at- 
tempts to  deceive  me  that  their  statements  were  merely  grotesque. 
It  will  be  seen,  however,  that  a  large  part— perhaps  more  than 
one  half — of  my  information  with  regard  to  Siberian  prisons  and 
the  working  of  the  exile  system  has  been  taken  directly  from  of- 
ficial sources,  and  that  a  very  small  part  of  it— probably  less  than 
one-fifth— rests  upon  the  statements  of  exiles  or  prisoners.  I 
have  appended,  in  the  shape  of  classified  groups  of  facts,  a  quan- 
tity of  information  relating  to  the  exile  system  obtained  by  going 
through  ten  years'  files  of  Siberian  newspapers,  as  well  as  a  mass  of 
statistics  from  reports  of  the  Russian  prison  and  medical  depart- 
ments to  show  the  sanitary  condition  of  Siberian  prisons  and  the 
rate  of  mortality  in  exile  parties.  I  was  assured  by  honest  and 
intelligent  officers  of  the  exile  administration  in  Siberia  that  these 
statistics  are  often  "cooked"  in  such  a  manner  as  to  show  a  much 
more  favorable  state  of  affairs  than  that  which  in  reality  exists, 
but  they  are  the  best  official  evidence  obtainable.  In  other  ap- 
pendices will  be  found  two  reports  of  Governor-general  Aniichin 
to  the  Tsar  with  the  Tsar's  marginal  notes ;  a  collection  of  facts 
bearing  upon  the  treatment  of  Russian  and  Siberian  authors  by 
the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  and  of  Russian  and  Siberian  periodi- 
cals by  the  bureau  of  censorship ;  a  small  collection  of  revolution- 
ary documents,  and  another  of  laws,  rules,  and  orders  of  the 
Government  relating  to  revolutionists,  and  finally  a  bibliography 
of  the  Russian  literature  relating  to  Siberia  and  the  exile  system 
so  far  as  I  am  acquainted  with  it. 

The  system  of  spelling  Russian  names  that  I  have  adopted  is 


PREFACE  IX 

that  sanctioned  by  the  Royal  Geographical  Society  of  Great  Brit- 
ain in  1885,  and  since  that  time  used  by  it  in  all  of  its  publications. 
Its  rules  are  as  follows. 

1.  No  change  will  be  made  in  the  spelling  of  words  and  names 
that  have  become,  by  long  usage,  familiar  to  English  readers,  such 
as  Cossack^  droshky,  Moscoiv. 

2.  The  true  sound  of  the  word  as  locally  pronounced  will  be 
taken  as  the  basis  of  the  spelling,  but  only  an  approximation  to 
the  sound  is  aimed  at. 

3.  Vowels  are  pronoiinced  as  in  Italian  and  consonants  as  in 
English. 

4.  One  accent  only  is  used,  the  acute,  to  denote  the  syllable  on 
which  stress  is  laid. 

5.  Every  letter  is  pronounced.  When  two  vowels  come  together, 
each  one  is  sounded,  though  the  result,  when  spoken  quickly,  is 
sometimes  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  a  single  sound,  as  in 
ai,  au,  and  ei. 

6.  The  values  of  the  vowels  and  of  the  principal  consonants  are 
as  follows : 

a — has  the  sound  of  a  in  father,    au  — has  the  sound  of  ow  in  Jiow. 

ei —  "  "  "'  ey  in  tJiey. 

zh —  '^  "  "  s  in  vision. 

ch  — is  soft  as  in  church. 

g  —  is  hard  as  in  gun. 
kh  —  is  guttural  as  in  khan. 
y  —  is  a  consonant  as  in  yard  and  is  never  used  as  a  vowel  or  a 
terminal. 

An  exception  will  be  made  to  Rule  1  in  the  case  of  a  few  words, 
such  as  Czar,  nmjik,  Nijni,  which  are  misleading  in  their  common 
English  form,  and  which  have  been  correctly  transliterated  by  such 
authorities  as  Wallace,  Ralston,  and  MorfiU. 

An  exception  will  also  be  made  to  Rule  2  in  the  case  of  certain 
surnames,  such  as  Kropotkin  and  Tourguenef,  whose  possessors 
have  adopted  for  themselves  a  definite  form  of  signature  in  roman 
letters.  A  guide,  however,  to  the  pronunciation  of  such  surnames 
will  be  found  in  the  vocabulary  at  the  end  of  Volume  II. 


e —  " 

"   e  in  benefit 

i —  " 

"   i  in  ravine. 

o —  " 

"  0  in  mote. 

u —  " 

"   00  in  boot. 

ai —  " 

"  i  in  ice. 

X  PKEFACE 

Before  closing  this  preface  I  desire  to  tender  my  most  sincere 
and  hearty  thanks  to  the  many  friends,  acquaintances,  and  well- 
wishers  throughout  European  Russia  and  Siberia  who  encouraged 
me  in  my  work,  cooperated  in  my  researches,  and  furnished  me 
with  tlie  most  valuable  part  of  my  material.  Some  of  them  ari^  po- 
litical exiles,  who  imperiled  even  the  wretched  future  that  still 
remained  to  them  by  writing  out  for  me  histories  of  their  lives ; 
some  of  them  are  officers  of  the  exile  administration  who,  trusting 
to  my  lionor  and  discretion,  gave  me  without  reserve  the  results  of 
their  long  experience;  and  some  of  them  are  honest,  humane  prison 
officials  who,  after  reporting  again  and  again  upon  the  evils  and 
abuses  of  the  prison  system,  finally  pointed  them  out  to  me,  as  the 
last  possible  means  of  forcing  them  upon  the  attention  of  the  Gov- 
ernment and  tlie  world.  Most  of  these  people  I  dare  not  even  men- 
tion by  name.  Although  their  characters  and  their  services  are 
such  as  to  make  their  names  worthy  of  remembrance  and  honor,  it 
is  their  misfortune  to  live  in  a  country  where  the  Government  re- 
gards a  frankly  expressed  opinion  as  an  evidence  of  ''un trust- 
worthiness," and  treats  an  effort  to  improve  the  condition  of  things 
as  an  offense  to  be  punished.  To  mention  the  names  of  such  people, 
when  they  live  under  such  a  government,  is  simply  to  render  them 
objects  of  suspicion  and  surveillance,  and  thus  deprive  them  of  the 
limited  power  they  still  exercise  for  good.  All  that  I  can  do,  there- 
fore, to  show  my  appreciation  of  their  trust,  their  kindness,  and 
their  aid,  is  to  use  the  information  which  they  gave  me  as  I  believe 
they  would  wish  it  to  be  used, —  in  the  interest  of  humanity,  free- 
dom, and  good  government.  For  Russia  and  the  Russian  people  I 
have  the  warmest  affection  and  sympathy;  and  if,  by  a  temperate 
and  well-considered  statement  of  the  results  of  my  Siberian  inves- 
tigations, I  can  make  the  country  and  the  nation  better  known  to 
the  world,  and  ameliorate,  even  little,  the  lot  of  tlie  ^'  unfortunates  " 
to  whom  "  God  is  high  above  and  the  Tsar  is  far  away,"  I  shall  be 
more  than  repaid  for  the  hardest  journey  and  the  most  trying  ex- 
perience of  my  life. 

George  Kennan. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

I.  From  St.  Petersburg  to  Perm 1 

II.  Across  the  Siberian  Frontier 25 

III.  The  Flowery  Plains  of  Tobolsk 55 

IV.  The  Tiumen  Forwarding  Prison 74 

V.  A  Siberian  Convict  Barge 103 

VI.  First  Impressions  of  Post  Travel 120 

VII.  The  Great  Kirghis  Steppe 140 

VIII.  Our  First  Meeting  with  Political  Exiles 168 

IX.  Bridle  Paths  of  the  Altai 188 

X.  Two  Colonies  of  Political  Exiles 227 

XI.  Exile  by  Administrative  Process 242 

XII.  The  Province  and  the  City  op  Tomsk  278 

XIII.  The  Tomsk  Forwarding  Prison 302 

XIV.  The  Life  of  Political  Exiles ^ 322 

XV.  The  Great  Siberian  Road 351 

XVI.  Deportation  by  Stape 369 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE. 

George  Kennan Frontispiece. 

The  Fair-City  of  Nizhni  Novgorod 7 

A  Part  of  the  Old  Town  of  Nizhni  Novgorod 11 

Water  Carrier  in  a  Volga  River  Village  16 

A  Volga  River  Hamlet 18 

A  Peasant  Woman  of  Simbirsk 22 

The  City  of  Perm 26 

A  Railroad  Verst  Post 33 

A  Street  in  Ekaterinburg 37 

Tarantas  at  a  Post  Station 46 

A  Caravan  of  Freight  Wagons 48 

Bivouac  of  Freight  Wagon  Drivers 51 

The  Siberian  Boundary  Post 53 

A  Siberian  Peasant's  House,  Barn,  and  Coubt-Yard  Gate  ...  67 

The  Tiumen  Forwarding  Prison  82 

The  Court-Yard  of  the  Tiumen  Prison 85 

Making  Up  an  Exile  Party  in  the  Tiumen  Prison 88 

Court- Yard  of  the  Women's  Prison,  Tiumen  93 

Tiumen  Laborers  Waiting  for  Employment 104 

The  "  Real  Schule  " 106 

*'  Voluntary  Exiles."    (Dobrovolni  ) 107 

A  Marching  Exile  Party 109 

A  Convict  Barge 112 

An  Exile  Party  About  to  Embark 113 

Exiles  Going  on  Board  the  Barge 115 

Men's  Cage,  Convict  Barge  —  Exiles  Buying  Food 116 

Inside  the  Women's  Cage,  Convict  Barge     118 

Convict  Types 119 


XIV  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE. 

Our  Tarantas 123 

Return  of  the  Miracle-working  Ik6n 129 

Huts  op  Village  Gate-Keepers 132 

A  Village  Gate-Keeper 134 

A  Steppe  Village 137 

Police  Station  and  Fire  Tower  in  Omsk 141 

The  Exile  Suburb  —  Omsk 143 

A  Kirghis  Encampment 144 

Interior  op  a  Kirghis  Kibitka 147 

A  Kirghis  Cemetery 151 

An  Oasis  in  the  Kirghis  Steppe 154 

Washing  Clothes  in  the  Irtish  156 

A  Street  in  Semipalatinsk 159 

A  Camel  Team  Crossing  the  Ford 161 

A  Kirghis  Horseman  in  Gala  Dress 163 

A  Wrestling  Match 165 

Cossack  Peasant  Girl  Spinning 190 

Upper  Irtish  Valley  and  Foot-Hills  of  the  Altai 192 

The  Altai  Station 194 

Our  House  at  the  Altai  Station 196 

Picnic  Ground,  Valley  of  the  Bukhtarma 203 

Cossack  Picket  of  Jingistai 205 

The  Village  of  Arul 207 

Ascent  of  the  Mountain  from  Berel 210 

Kirghis  Encampment  on  the  Summit 212 

Rakmanofski  Lake 214 

The  Rakmanofski  Hot  Springs 216 

Descent  into  the  Valley  of  the  White  Berel 218 

Distant  View  op  the    Katunski  Alps 219 

The  "  Katunski  Pillars  "—  Source  op  the  Katt5^n  River 221 

The  Descent  into  the  Gorge  op  the  Katun 223 

The  Katun  River 224 

Lower  Part  of  Katun  Glacier  (Upper  Part  in  Clouds)  —  Katun 

Waterfall 225 

Coming  up  the  Alexandr6fskaya-S]6ivernaya  Ravine 231 

The  Ulbinsk  Ravine 233 


ILLUSTRATIONS  XV 

PAGE. 

The  Valley  of  Ulbinsk 235 

The  Town  of  Ust  Kajienogorsk 238 

A  Post-Station  on  the  Barnaul  Road 280 

Mabket-Place  in  Barnaul 282 

Old  Prison  or  Guard-House  in  Barnaul 284 

Peasant  Women  at  Work  in  Barnaul 287 

Kolivan  Lake 289 

Grotesque  Rocks  near  Kolivan  Lake 292 

Ferry  on  the  River  Ob  near  Barnaul 295 

A  Part  of  the  Market  Square  in  Tomsk 300 

A  "  FAiiiLY  Kajviera  "  in  the  Tomsk  Forwarding  Prison 313 

Prince  Kropotkin 324 

An  Old  Siberian  Ferry-Boat 355 

Bark-Mills,  Krasnoyarsk 358 

Monastery  near  Krasnoyarsk 360 

Road  to  Monastery 361 

A  Siberian  Blacksmith 363 

The  Departure  of  the   Mail 365 

Sick  and  Infirm  Exiles  in  Telegas 375 

A  Convict  Party  Passing  a  Shrine  near  Tomsk 377 

Halt  of  a  Convict  Party  for  Lunch 379 

"  Brodyags  "  OR  Runaway  Convicts 381 

A  Polu-Etape  on  the  Tomsk- Achinsk  Road 383 

A  ''  Kamera  ■'  OR  Cell  est  a  Polu-Etape 385 

An  Etape 387 

A  Party  of  Exiles  Crossing  the  Yenisei 398 

An  Old  Convict  Begging  Food 403 

A  Break  for  Liberty 408 

MAPS 


PAGE. 

Map  op  Siberia 4 

Enlarged  Map  of  Route  from  Tiumen  to  Semipalatinsk 121 

Map  of  Route  from  Semipalatixsk  to  the  Altai 189 

Route  from  the  Altai  Station  to  Tomsk  228 


SIBERIA  A:N^D  the  EXILE   SYSTEM 


CHAPTER  I 

FKOM   ST.   PETEKSBURG   TO   PERM 

THE  Siberian  expedition  of  The  Century  Magazine 
sailed  from  New  York  for  Liverpool  on  the  second  day 
of  May,  1885.  It  consisted  of  Mr.  George  A.  Frost,  an  ar- 
tist of  Boston,  and  the  author  of  this  book.  We  both  spoke 
Russian,  both  had  been  in  Siberia  before,  and  I  was  making 
to  the  empire  my  fourth  journey.  Previous  association  in 
the  service  of  the  Russian- American  Telegraph  Company 
had  acquainted  us  with  each  other,  and  long  experience  in 
sub-arctic  Asia  had  familiarized  us  with  the  hardships  and 
privations  of  Siberian  travel.  Our  plan  of  operations  had 
been  approved  by  The  Century ;  we  had  the  amplest  dis- 
cretionary power  in  the  matter  of  ways  and  means;  and 
although  fully  aware  of  the  serious  nature  of  the  work  in 
hand,  we  were  hopeful,  if  not  sanguine,  of  success.  We  ar- 
rived in  London  on  Sunday,  May  10,  and  on  Wednesday, 
the  13th,  proceeded  to  St.  Petersburg  by  rail,  via  Dover,  Os- 
tend,  Cologne,  Hanover,  Berlin,  and  Eydkuhnen.  As  the 
season  was  already  advanced,  and  as  it  was  important  that 
we  should  reach  Siberia  in  time  to  make  the  most  of  the 
summer  weather  and  the  good  roads,  I  decided  to  remain 
in  the  Russian  capital  only  five  days ;  but  we  were  unfor- 
tunate enough  to  arrive  there  just  at  the  beginning  of  a 
1 


2  SIBERIA 

long  series  of  chuivli  holidays,  and  were  able  to  utilize  in 
the  transaction  of  business  only  four  days  out  of  ten. 

As  soon  as  I  could  obtain  an  interview  with  Mr.  Vlan- 
galli,  the  assistant  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  I  presented 
my  letters  of  introduction  and  told  him  frankly  and  can- 
didly what  we  desired  to  do.  I  said  that  in  my  judgment 
Siberia  and  the  exile  system  had  been  greatly  misrepre- 
sented by  prejudiced  writers ;.  that  a  truthful  description  of 
the  country,  the  prisons  and  the  mines  would,  I  thought,  be 
advantageous  rather  than  detrimental  to  the  interests  of 
the  Eussian  Grovernment ;  and  that,  inasmuch  as  I  had  al- 
ready committed  myself  publicly  to  a  defense  of  that  Gov- 
ernment, I  could  hardly  be  suspected  of  an  intention  to 
seek  in  Siberia  for  facts  with  which  to  undermine  my  own 
position.  This  statement,  in  which  there  was  not  the  least 
diplomacy  or  insincerity,  seemed  to  impress  Mr.  Vlangalli 
favorably ;  and  after  twenty  minutes'  conversation  he  in- 
formed me  that  we  should  undoubtedly  be  permitted  to  go 
to  Siberia,  and  that  he  would  aid  us  as  far  as  possible  by 
giving  us  an  open  letter  to  the  governors  of  the  Siberian 
provinces,  and  by  procuring  for  us  a  similar  letter  from  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior.  Upon  being  asked  whether  these 
letters  would  admit  us  to  Siberian  prisons,  Mr.  Vlangalli 
replied  that  they  would  not;  that  permission  to  inspect 
prisons  must  in  all  cases  be  obtained  from  provincial  gov- 
ernors. As  to  the  further  question  whether  such  permis- 
sion would  probably  be  granted,  he  declined  to  express  an 
opinion.  This,  of  course,  was  equivalent  to  saying  that  the 
Government  would  not  give  us  carte-hlanche,  but  would 
follow  us  with  friendly  observation,  and  grant  or  refuse  per- 
mission to  visit  prisons  as  might,  from  time  to  time,  seem 
expedient.  I  foresaw  that  this  would  greatly  increase  our 
difficulties,  but  I  did  not  deem  it  prudent  to  urge  any  fur- 
ther concession ;  and  after  expressing  my  thanks  for  the 
courtesy  and  kindness  with  which  we  had  been  received  I 
withdrew. 


FKOM   ST.   PETERSBURG   TO   PERM  3 

At  another  interview,  a  few  days  later,  Mr.  Ylangalli  gave 
me  the  promised  letters  and,  at  the  same  time,  said  that  he 
would  like  to  hav^e  me  stop  in  Moscow  on  my  way  to  Siberia 
and  make  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Katkoff,  the  well-known 
editor  of  the  Moscow  Gazette.  He  handed  me  a  sealed 
note  of  introduction  to  Baron  Biihler,  keeper  of  the  im- 
perial archives  in  Moscow,  and  said  that  he  had  requested 
the  latter  to  present  me  to  Mr.  Katkoff,  and  that  he  hoped 
I  would  not  leave  Moscow  without  seeing  him.  I  was  not 
unfamiliar  with  the  character  and  the  career  of  the  great 
Russian  champion  of  autocracy,  and  was  glad,  of  course,  to 
have  an  opjDortunity  of  meeting  him ;  but  I  more  than  sus- 
pected that  the  underlying  motive  of  Mr.  Vlangalli's  request 
was  a  desire  to  bring  me  into  contact  with  a  man  of  strong 
personality  and  great  ability,  who  would  impress  me  with 
his  own  views  of  Russian  policy,  confirm  my  favorable 
opinion  of  the  Russian  Government,  and  guard  me  from 
the  danger  of  being  led  astray  by  the  specious  misrepre- 
sentations of  exiled  nihilists,  whom  I  might  possibly  meet 
in  the  course  of  my  Siberian  journey.  This  precaution  — 
if  precaution  it  was  —  seemed  to  me  wholly  unnecessary, 
since  my  opinion  of  the  nihilists  was  already  as  unfavor- 
able as  the  Government  itself  could  desire.  I  assured  Mr. 
Vlangalli,  however,  that  I  would  see  Mr.  Katkoff  if  possible ; 
and  after  thanking  him  again  for  his  assistance  I  bade  him 
good-by. 

In  reviewing  now  the  representations  that  I  made  to  high 
Russian  officials  before  leaving  St.  Petersburg  I  have  not 
to  reproach  myself  with  a  single  act  of  duplicity  or  insin- 
cerity. I  did  not  obtain  permission  to  go  to  Siberia  by 
means  of  false  pretenses,  nor  did  I  at  any  time  assume  a 
deceptive  attitude  for  the  sake  of  furthering  my  plans.  If 
the  opinions  that  I  now  hold  differ  from  those  that  I  ex- 
pressed to  Mr.  Vlangalli  in  1885,  it  is  not  because  I  was 
then  insincere,  but  because  my  views  have  since  been 
changed  by  an  overwhelming  mass  of  evidence. 


SIBERIA 


FROM   ST.   PETERSBURG   TO    PERM  5 

On  the  afternoon  of  May  31,  having  selected  and  pur- 
chased photographic  apparatus,  obtained  all  necessary 
books  and  maps,  and  provided  ourselves  with  about  fifty 
letters  of  introduction  to  teachers,  mining  engineers,  and 
Government  officials  in  all  parts  of  Siberia,  we  left  St. 
Petersburg  by  rail  for  Moscow.  The  distance  from  the 
Russian  capital  to  the  Siberian  frontier  is  about  1600  miles ; 
and  the  route  usually  taken  by  travelers,  and  always  by 
exiles,  is  that  which  passes  through  the  cities  of  Moscow, 
Nizhni  Novgorod,  Kazan,  Perm,  and  Ekaterinburg.  The 
eastern  terminus  of  the  Russian  railway  system  is  at  Nizhni 
Novgorod,  but,  in  summer,  steamers  ply  constantly  between 
that  city  and  Perm  on  the  rivers  Volga  and  Kama ;  and 
Perm  is  connected  with  Ekaterinburg  by  an  isolated  piece 
of  railroad  about  180  miles  in  length,  which  crosses  the 
mountain  chain  of  the  Ural,  and  is  intended  to  unite  the 
navigable  waters  of  the  Volga  witli  those  of  the  Ob.' 

Upon  our  arrival  in  Moscow  I  presented  my  sealed  note 
of  introduction  to  Baron  Buhler,  and  called  with  him  at  the 
office  of  the  Moscow  Gazette  for  the  purpose  of  making 
the  acquaintance  of  its  editor.  We  were  disappointed,  how- 
ever, to  find  that  Mr.  Katkoff  had  just  left  the  city  and 
probably  would  be  absent  for  two  or  three  weeks.  As  we 
could  not  await  his  return,  and  as  there  was  no  other  busi- 
ness to  detain  us  in  Moscow,  we  proceeded  by  rail  to  Nizhni 
Novgorod,  reaching  that  city  early  on  the  morning  of  Thurs- 
day, June  4. 

To  a  traveler  visiting  Nizhni  Novgorod  for  the  first  time 
there  is  something  surprising,  and  almost  startling,  in  the 
appearance  of  what  he  supposes  to  be  the  city,  and  in  the 
scene  presented  to  him  as  he  emerges  from  the  railway 
station  and  walks  away  from  the  low  bank  of  the  Oka 
River  in  the  direction  of  the  Volga.    The  clean,  well-paved 

1  During  our  stay  in  Siberia  this  rail-  by  rail  or  steamer,  with  points  in  Si- 
road  was  extended  to  Tinmen,  on  one  beria  as  remote  as  Semipalatinsk  and 
of  the  tributaries  of  the  Ob,  so  that  St.  Tomsk,  the  former  2600  and  the  latter 
Petersburg  is  now  in  communication,  2700  miles  away. 


b  SIBERIA 

streets;  the  long  rows  of  substantial  Imildiiigs ;  the  spa- 
cious boulevard,  shaded  by  leafy  birches  and  poplars ;  the 
canal,  spanned  at  intervals  by  graceful  bridges ;  the  pic- 
turesque tower  of  the  water- works;  the  enormous  cathedral 
of  Alexander  Nevski;  the  Bourse;  the  theaters;  the  ho- 
tels ;  the  market  places  —  all  seem  to  indicate  a  great  j^opu- 
lous  center  of  life  and  commercial  activity ;  but  of  living 
inhabitants  there  is  not  a  sign.  Grass  and  weeds  are  grow- 
ing in  the  middle  of  the  empty  streets  and  in  the  chinks  of 
the  travel-worn  sidewalks ;  birds  are  singing  fearlessly  in 
the  trees  that  shade  the  lonely  and  deserted  boulevard ;  the 
countless  shops  and  warehouses  are  all  closed,  barred,  and 
padlocked ;  the  bells  are  silent  in  the  gilded  belfries  of  the 
churches ;  and  the  astonished  stranger  may  perhaps  wander 
for  a  mile  between  solid  blocks  of  buildings  without  seeing 
an  open  door,  a  vehicle,  or  a  single  human  being.  The  city 
appears  to  have  been  stricken  by  a  pestilence  and  deserted. 
If  the  new-comer  remembers  for  what  Nizhni  Novgorod  is 
celebrated,  he  is  not  long,  of  course,  in  coming  to  the  con- 
clusion that  he  is  on  the  site  of  the  famous  fair ;  but  the 
first  realization  of  the  fact  that  the  fair  is  in  itself  a  sepa- 
rate and  indei3endent  city,  and  a  city  that  during  nine  months 
of  every  year  stands  empty  and  deserted,  comes  to  him  with 
the  shock  of  a  great  surprise. 

The  fair-city  of  Nizhni  Novgorod  is  situated  on  a  low 
peninsula  between  the  rivers  Oka  and  Volga,  just  above 
their  junction,  very  much  as  New  York  City  is  situated  on 
Manhattan  Island  between  East  River  and  the  Hudson. 
In  geographical  position  it  bears  the  same  relation  to  the 
old  town  of  Nizhni  Novgorod  that  New  York  would  bear  to 
Jersey  City  if  the  latter  were  elevated  on  a  steep,  terraced 
bluff  four  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  Hudson.  The 
Russian  fair-city,  however,  differs  from  New  York  City  in 
that  it  is  a  mere  temporary  market  —  a  huge  commercial 
caravansardi  where  500,000  traders  assemble  every  year  to 
buy  and  to  sell  commodities.     In  September  it  has  fre- 


FROM    ST.   PETERSBURG   TO   PERM 


THK  FAIR-CITV  OF   MZHNI  NOVGOROD. 


quently  a  population  of  more  than  100,000  souls,  and  con- 
tains merchandise  valued  at  $75,000,000 ;  while  in  January, 
February,  or  March  all  of  its  inhabitants  might  be  fed  and 
sheltered  in  the  smallest  of  its  hotels,  and  all  of  its  goods 
might  be  put  into  a  single  one  of  its  innumerable  shops. 
Its  life,  therefore,  is  a  sort  of  intermittent  commercial  fever, 
in  which  an  annual  paroxysm  of  intense  and  unnatural  ac- 
tivity is  followed  by  a  long  interval  of  torpor  and  stagna- 
tion. 

It  seems  almost  incredible  at  first  that  a  city  of  such  mag- 
nitude —  a  city  that  contains  churches,  mosques,  theaters, 
markets,  banks,  hotels,  a  merchants'  exchange,  and  nearly 
seven  thousand  shops  and  inhabitable  buildings,  should 
have  so  ephemeral  a  hfe,  and  should  be  so  completely  aban- 
doned every  year  after  it  has  served  the  purpose  for  which 
it  was  created.  When  I  saw  this  unique  city  for  the  first 
time,  on  a  clear  frosty  night  in  January,  1868,  it  presented 


8  SIBERIA 

an  extraordinary  picture  of  loneliness  and  desolation.  The 
moonlight  streamed  down  into  its  long  empty  streets  where 
the  unbroken  snow  lay  two  feet  deep  upon  the  sidewalks ; 
it  touched  with  silver  the  white  walls  and  swelling  domes 
of  the  old  fair-cathedral,  from  whose  towers  there  came  no 
clangor  of  bells ;  it  sparkled  on  great  snowdrifts  heaped  up 
against  the  doors  of  the  empty  houses,  and  poured  a  flood 
of  pale  light  over  thousands  of  snow-covered  roofs  ;  but  it 
did  not  reveal  anywhere  a  sign  of  a  human  being.  The 
city  seemed  to  be  not  only  uninhabited,  but  wholly  aban- 
doned to  the  arctic  spirits  of  solitude  and  frost.  When  I 
saw  it  next,  at  the  height  of  the  annual  fair  in  the  autumn 
of  1870,  it  was  so  changed  as  to  be  almost  unrecognizable. 
It  was  then  surrounded  by  a  great  forest  of  shipping ;  its 
hot,  dusty  atmosphere  thrilled  with  the  incessant  whistling 
of  steamers ;  merchandise  to  the  value  of  125,000,000  rubles 
lay  on  its  shores  or  was  packed  into  its  6000  shops ;  every 
building  within  its  limit  was  crowded ;  60,000  people  were 
crossing  every  day  the  pontoon  bridge  that  connected  it 
with  the  old  town ;  a  military  band  was  playing  airs  from 
Offenbach's  operas  on  the  great  boulevard  in  front  of  the 
governor's  house ;  and  through  all  the  streets  of  the  reani- 
mated and  reawakened  city  poured  a  great  tumultuous  flood 
of  human  life. 

I  did  not  see  the  fair-city  again  until  June,  1885,  when  I 
found  it  almost  as  completely  deserted  as  on  the  occasion 
of  my  first  visit,  but  in  other  ways  greatly  changed  and  im- 
proved. Substantial  brick  buildings  had  taken  the  place  of 
the  long  rows  of  inflammable  wooden  shops  and  sheds ;  the 
streets  in  many  parts  of  the  city  had  been  neatly  paved ; 
the  number  of  stores  and  warehouses  had  largely  increased; 
and  the  lower  end  of  the  peninsula  had  been  improved  and 
dignified  by  the  erection  of  the  great  Alexander  Nevski  cathe- 
dral, which  is  shown  in  the  center  of  the  illustration  on  page 
7,  and  which  now  forms  the  most  prominent  and  striking 
architectural  feature  of  the  fair. 


FROM   ST.   PETERSBURG   TO   PERM  9 

It  was  supposed  that,  with  the  gradual  extension  of  the 
Eussian  railway  system,  and  the  facilities  afforded  by  it  for 
the  distribution  of  merchandise  throughout  the  empire  in 
small  quantities,  the  fair  of  Nizhni  Novgorod  would  lose 
most  of  its  importance  ;  but  no  such  result  has  yet  become 
apparent.  During  the  most  active  period  of  railway  con- 
struction in  Russia,  from  1868  to  1881,  the  value  of  the 
merchandise  brought  annually  to  the  fair  rose  steadily  from 
126,000,000  to  246,000,000  rubles,"  and  the  number  of  shops 
and  stores  in  the  fair-city  increased  from  5738  to  6298.  At 
the  present  time  the  volume  of  business  transacted  during 
the  two  fair-months  amounts  to  something  like  225,000,000 
rubles,  and  the  number  of  shops  and  stores  in  the  fair  ex- 
ceeds 7000. 

The  station  of  the  Moscow  and  Nizhni  Novgorod  railway 
is  situated  within  the  limits  of  the  fair-city,  on  the  left  bank 
of  the  river  Oka,  and  communication  between  it  and  the  old 
town  on  the  other  side  is  maintained  in  summer  by  means 
of  a  steam  ferry,  or  a  long  floating  bridge  consisting  of  a 
roadway  supported  by  pontoons.  As  the  bridge,  at  the  time 
of  our  arrival,  had  not  been  put  in  position  for  the  season, 
we  crossed  the  river  on  a  low,  flat  barge  in  tow  of  a  small 
steamer. 

The  view  that  one  gets  of  the  old  fortified  city  of  Nizhni 
Novgorod  while  crossing  the  Oka  from  the  fair  is  both  strik- 
ing and  picturesque.  The  long  steep  bluff  upon  which  it  is 
situated  rises  abruptly  almost  from  the  water's  edge  to  the 
height  of  four  hundred  feet,  notched  at  intervals  by  deep 
V-shaped  cuts  through  which  run  the  ascending  roads  to 
the  upper  plateau,  and  broken  here  and  there  by  narrow 
terraces  upon  which  stand  white-walled  and  golden-domed 
cathedrals  and  monasteries  half  buried  in  groves  of  trees. 
In  the  warm,  bright  sunshine  of  a  June  day  the  snowy  walls 
of  the  Byzantine  churches  scattered  along  the  crest  of  the 
bluff;  the  countless  domes  of  blue,  green,  silver,  and  gold 

'^  The  value  of  the  Russiau  rtible  is  about  lialf  a  dollar. 


10  SIBERIA 

rising  out  of  dark  masses  of  foliage  on  the  terraces;  the 
smooth,  grassy  slopes  which  descend  here  and  there  almost 
to  the  water's  edge ;  and  the  river  front,  lined  with  steamers 
and  bright  with  flags — all  make  up  a  picture  that  is  hardly 
surpassed  in  northern  Russia.  Fronting  the  Volga,  near 
what  seems  to  be  the  eastern  end  of  the  ridge,  stands  the 
ancient  I'renil'uf^^  or  stronghold  of  the  city,  whose  high, 
crenelated  walls  descend  the  steep  face  of  the  bluff  toward 
the  river  in  a  series  of  titanic  steps,  and  whose  arched  gate- 
ways and  massive  round  towers  carry  the  imagination  back 
to  the  Middle  Ages.  Three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  this 
great  walled  enclosure  was  regarded  as  an  absolutely  im- 
pregnable fortress,  and  for  more  than  a  century  it  served  as 
a  secure  place  of  refuge  for  the  people  of  the  city  when  the 
fierce  Tatars  of  Kazan  invaded  the  territories  of  the  Grand 
Dukes.  With  the  complete  subjugation  of  the  Tatar  khan- 
ate, however,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  it  lost  its  importance 
as  a  defensive  fortification,  and  soon  began  to  fall  into  de- 
cay. Its  thirteen  towers,  which  were  originally  almost  a 
hundred  feet  in  height,  are  now  half  in  ruins ;  and  its  walls, 
which  have  a  circuit  of  about  a  mile  and  a  quarter,  would 
probably  have  fallen  long  ago  had  they  not  been  extraordi- 
narily thick,  massive,  and  deeply  founded.  They  make  upon 
one  an  impression  of  even  greater  solidity  and  strength  than 
do  the  walls  of  the  famous  kremUn  in  Moscow. 

Upon  landing  from  the  ferry-boat  in  the  old  town  of 
Mzhni  Novgorod,  we  drove  to  a  hotel  in  the  upper  part  of 
the  city,  and  after  securing  rooms  and  sending  our  passports 
to  the  chief  of  police,  we  walked  down  past  the  kremlin  to 

3  A  l-renilin,  or,  to  use  the  Eussiau  buildings,  such  as  churches,  palaces, 
form  of  the  word,  a  kreml,  is  mere-  treasuries,  etc.,  which  are  mei'ely  pro- 
ly  a  walled  enclosure  with  towers  at  tected  by  it.  It  is  popularly  supposed 
the  corners,  situated  in  a  commanding  that  the  only  l-n'inlin  in  Eussia  is  that 
position  near  the  center  of  a  city,  and  of  Moscow  ;  but  this  is  a  mistake.  Mzh- 
intended  to  serve  as  a  stronghold,  or  nl  Novgorod,  Kazan,  and  several  other 
place  of  refuge,  for  the  inhabitants  in  towns  in  the  part  of  Russia  that  was 
time  of  war.  It  differs  from  a  castle  or  subject  to  Tatar  invasion,  had  strong- 
fortress  in  that  it  generally  incloses  a  holds  of  this  kind, 
larger  area,  and  contains  a  number  of 


FROM   ST.   PETERSBURG   TO   PERM 


11 


m 


iJllIJll:iLl.  L  ,.  :r.- 


A   PAUT  UF   Tin:   UL1>   TOWN   nF    NI/lINr    NuVtioIlOl 


12  SIBERIA 

the  river  front.  Under  the  long  bluft'  upon  which  the  city 
and  the  hreml'm  stand,  and  between  the  steep  escarpment  and 
the  river,  there  is  a  narrow  strip  of  level  ground  which  is 
now  given  up  almost  wholly  to  commerce  and  is  known  as 
the  "  lower  bazar."  Upon  this  strip  of  land  are  huddled  to- 
gether in  picturesque  confusion  a  multitude  of  buildings  of 
the  most  heterogeneous  character  and  appearance.  Preten- 
tious modern  stores,  with  gilded  signs  and  plate-glass  win- 
dows, stand  in  neighborly  proximity  to  wretched  hucksters' 
stalls  of  rough,  unpainted  boards ;  banks,  hotels,  and  steam- 
ship offices  are  sandwiched  in  among  ship-chandlers'  shops, 
old-clothes  stalls,  and  traktirs ;^  fantastic,  highly  colored 
churches  of  the  last  century  appear  in  the  most  unexpected 
places,  and  give  an  air  of  sanctity  to  the  most  disreputable 
neighborhoods  ;  and  the  entire  region,  from  the  river  to  the 
bluff,  is  crowded  with  wholesale,  retail,  and  second-hand 
shops,  where  one  can  buy  anything  and  everything — from 
a  paper  of  pins,  a  wooden  comb,  or  a  string  of  dried  mush- 
rooms, to  a  ship's  anchor,  a  church  bell,  or  a  steam-engine. 
In  a  single  shop  of  the  lower  bazar  I  saw  exposed  for  sale 
a  set  of  parlor  chairs,  two  wicker-work  baby-carriages,  a 
rustic  garden  seat,  two  cross-cut  log  saws,  half  a  dozen  bat- 
tered saniovdrs,  a  child's  cradle,  a  steam-engine,  one  half  of 
a  pair  of  elk  horns,  three  old  boilers,  a  collection  of  telescopes, 
an  iron  church-cross  four  feet  in  height,  six  or  eight  watches, 
a  dilapidated  carriage-top,  feather  dusters,  opera-glasses, 
log  chains,  watch  charms,  two  blacksmith's  an\dls,  measuring 
tapes,  old  boots,  stove  covers,  a  Caucasian  dagger,  turning 
lathes,  sleigh  bells,  pulleys  and  blocks  from  a  ship's  rigging, 
fire-engine  nozzles,  horse  collars,  an  officer's  sword,  axe 
helves,  carriage  cushions,  gilt  bracelets,  iron  barrel-hoops, 
trunks,  accordions,  three  or  four  soup  plates  filled  with  old 
nails  and  screws,  carving-knives,  vises,  hinges,  revolvers, 
old  harnesses,  half  a  dozen  odd  lengths  of  rusty  stove-pipe, 
a  tin  can  of  "  mixed  biscuits  "  from  London,  and  a  six-foot 

1  A  traMir  is  a  public  tea-house. 


FBOM   ST.  PETERSBURG   TO   PERM  13 

bath  till).  This  list  of  articles,  which  I  made  on  the  spot, 
did  not  comprise  more  than  a  third  part  of  the  dealer's  het- 
erogeneous stock  in  trade ;  but  I  had  not  time  for  a  careful 
and  exhaustive  enumeration.  In  a  certain  way  this  shop 
was  illustrative  and  typical  of  the  whole  lower  bazar,  since 
nothing,  perhaps,  in  that  quarter  of  the  city  is  more  striking 
than  the  heterogeneity  of  buildings,  peoj)le,  and  trades.  The 
whole  river  front  is  lined  with  landing-stages  and  steamers ; 
it  is  generally  crowded  with  people  from  all  parts  of  the  em- 
pire, and  it  always  presents  a  scene  of  great  commercial  ac- 
tivity. Steamers  are  departing  almost  hourly  for  the  lower 
Volga,  the  frontier  of  Siberia,  and  the  far-away  Caspian ; 
huge  black  barges,  which  lie  here  and  there  at  the  landing- 
stages,  are  being  loaded  or  unloaded  by  gangs  of  swarthy 
Tatar  stevedores ;  small,  unpainted  one-horse  telegas^ 
which  look  like  longitudinal  halves  of  barrels  mounted  on 
four  wheels,  are  carrying  away  bags,  boxes,  and  crates  from 
the  piles  of  merchandise  on  the  shore ;  and  the  broad,  dusty 
street  is  thronged  all  day  with  traders,  peddlers,  peasants, 
longshoremen,  pilgrims,  beggars,  and  tramps. 

Even  the  children  seem  to  feel  the  spirit  of  trade  that 
controls  the  city ;  and  as  I  stood  watching  the  scene  on 
the  river  front,  a  ragged  boy,  not  more  than  eight  or  nine 
years  of  age,  whose  whole  stock  in  trade  consisted  of  a  few 
strings  of  dried  mushrooms,  elbowed  his  way  through  the 
crowd  with  all  the  assurance  of  an  experienced  peddler, 
shouting  in  a  thin,  childish  treble,  "  Mushrooms !  Fine 
mushrooms !  Sustain  commerce,  gentlemen !  Buy  my 
mushrooms  and  sustain  commerce!" 

The  diversity  of  popular  types  in  the  lower  bazar  is  not 
perhaps  so  great  in  June  as  it  is  in  September,  during  the 
fair,  but  the  peculiarities  of  dress  are  such  as  to  make 
almost  every  figure  in  the  throng  interesting  and  note- 
worthy to  a  foreign  observer.  There  are  swarthy  Tatars 
in  round  skull  caps  and  long,  loose  khaldts ;  *  Russian  peas- 

1  A  loose,  waistless  coat  resembling  a  dressing-gown. 


14  SIBERIA 

ants  in  greasy  sheepskin  coats  and  huge  wicker-work 
shoes,  with  then-  legs  swathed  in  dirty  bandages  of  coarse 
linen  cloth  and  cross-gartered  with  hempen  cords ;  disrep- 
utable-looking long-haired,  long-bearded  monks,  who  solicit 
alms  for  hospitals  or  churches,  receiving  contributions  on 
small  boards  covered  with  black  velvet  and  transferring  the 
money  deposited  thereon  to  big  tin  boxes  hung  from  their 
necks  and  secured  with  enormous  iron  padlocks ;  strolling 
dealers  in  kvas,^  mead,  sherbet,  and  other  seductive  bright- 
colored  drinks ;  brazen-throated  peddlers  proclaiming  aloud 
the  virtues  of  brass  jewelry,  salted  eucmnbers,  strings  of 
dried  mushrooms,  and  cotton  handkerchiefs  stamped  with 
railroad  maps  of  Russia;  and,  finally,  a  surging  crowd  of 
wholesale  and  retail  traders  from  all  parts  of  the  Volga 
River  basin. 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  the  traveler  on  the  threshold 
of  southeastern  Russia  is  the  greatness  of  the  country — that 
is,  the  enormous  extent  of  its  material  resources,  and  the 
intense  commercial  activity  manifested  along  its  principal 
lines  of  communication.  The  average  American  thinks  of 
southeastern  Russia  as  a  rather  quiet,  semi-pastoral,  semi- 
agricultural  country,  which  produces  enough  for  the  main- 
tenance of  its  own  half-civilized  and  not  very  numerous 
population,  but  which,  in  point  of  commercial  activity, 
cannot  bear  comparison  for  a  moment  with  even  the  most 
backward  of  our  States.  He  is  not  a  little  astonished, 
therefore,  at  Nizhni  Novgorod,  to  find  the  shipping  of  the 
Volga  occupying  six  or  eight  miles  of  river  front ;  to  learn 
that  for  its  regulation  there  is  in  the  city  a  shipping  court 
with  special  jurisdiction;  that  the  pristan,  or,  as  a  Western 
steamboatman  would  say,  the  levee,  is  under  control  of 
an  officer  appointed  by  the  Minister  of  Ways  and  Com- 
munications and  aided  by  a  large  staff  of  subordinates; 
that  the  number  of  steamers  plying  on  the  Volga  and 
its  tributaries  is  greater  than  the  number  on  the  Missis- 

1  A  drink  made  by  fermenting  rye  flour  in  water. 


FROM   ST.   PETERSBURG   TO   PERM  15 

sippi ; '  that  $15,000,000  worth  of  products  come  annually 
down  a  single  tributary  of  the  Volga — namely,  the  Kama, 
a  stream  of  which  few  Americans  have  ever  heard;  and, 
finally,  that  the  waters  of  the  Volga  River  system  float  an- 
nually nearly  5,000,000  tons  of  merchandise,  and  furnish 
employment  to  7000  vessels  and  nearly  200,000  boatmen. 
It  may  be  that  an  ordinarily  well-educated  American  ought 
to  know  all  these  things ;  but  I  certainly  did  not  know  them, 
and  they  came  to  me  with  the  shock  of  a  complete  surprise. 

On  the  morning  of  Saturday,  June  6,  after  having  visited 
the  fair-city  and  the  kreml'm  and  made  as  thorough  a  study 
of  Nizhni  Novgorod  as  the  time  at  our  disposal  would  per- 
mit, we  embarked  on  one  of  the  Kamenski  Brothers'  steam- 
ers for  a  voyage  of  nearly  a  thousand  miles  down  the  Volga 
and  up  the  Kama  to  Perm. 

It  has  been  said  that  Egypt  is  the  creation  of  the  Nile. 
In  a  different  sense,  but  with  equal  truth,  it  may  be  said 
that  eastern  Russia  is  the  creation  of  the  Volga.  The 
ethnological  composition  of  its  population  was  mainly  de- 
termined by  that  river;  the  whole  history  of  the  country  has 
been  intimately  connected  with  it  for  more  than  a  thousand 
years;  the  character  and  pursuits  of  all  the  east-Russian 
tribes  have  been  greatly  modified  by  it;  and  upon  it  now 
depend,  directly  or  indirectly,  the  welfare  and  prosperity  of 
more  than  10,000,000  people.  From  any  point  of  view,  the 
Volga  must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  great  rivers  of  the 
world.  Its  length,  from  the  Valdai  hills  to  the  Caspian  Sea, 
is  nearly  2300  miles;  its  width  below  Tsaritsin,  in  time  of 
high  water,  exceeds  30  miles,  so  that  a  boatman,  in  crossing 
it,  loses  sight  entirely  of  its  low  banks  and  is  virtually  at 
sea;  it  washes  the  borders  of  nine  provinces,  or  administra- 
tive divisions  of  the  empire,  and  on  its  banks  stand  39  cities 
and  more  than  1000  villages  and  settlements.  The  most 
important  part  of  the  river,  commercially,  is  that  lying 

1  In  1880  there  were  on  the  upper  and  the  lower  Mississippi  681  steamers. 
The  number  on  the  Volga  and  its  tributaries  is  about  700. 


16 


SIBERIA 


between  Nizliui  Novgorod  and  the  mouth  of  the  Kama, 
where  there  ply,  during  the  season  of  navigation,  about  450 
steamers.  As  far  down  as  the  so-called  "Samara  bend," 
the  river  presents  almost  everywhere  a  picture  of  busy  life 
and  acti\aty,  and  is  full  of  steamers,  barges,  and  great  hulks, 
like  magnified  canal-boats,  loaded  with  goods  from  eastern 
Russia,  Siberia,  and  Central  Asia.    The  amount  of  merchan- 


WATLIC  CAiUilER  IN  A  v6lGA  KIVER  VILLAGE. 


dise  produced,  even  in  the  strip  of  country  directly  tributary 
to  the  Volga  itself,  is  enormous.  Many  of  the  agricultural 
villages,  such  as  Liskovo,  which  the  steamer  swiftly  passes 
between  Nizhni  Novgorod  and  Kazan,  and  which  seem, 
from  a  distance,  to  be  insignificant  clusters  of  unpainted 
wooden  houses,  load  with  grain  700  vessels  a  year. 

The  scenery  of  the  upper  Volga  is  much  more  varied  and 
picturesque  than  one  would  expect  to  find  along  a  river 


Jb'liOM   ST.   PETEESBURG   TO   PERM  17 

running  through  a  flat  and  monotonous  country.  The  left 
bank,  it  is  true,  is  generally  low  and  uninteresting ;  but  on 
the  other  side  the  land  rises  abruptly  from  the  water's  edge 
to  a  height  of  400  or  500  feet,  and  its  boldly  projecting  prom- 
ontories, at  intervals  of  two  or  three  miles,  break  up  the 
majestic  river  into  long,  still  reaches,  like  a  series  of  placid 
lakes  opening  into  one  another  and  reflecting  in  their  tran- 
quil depths  the  dense  foliage  of  the  virgin  forest  on  one  side 
and  the  bold  outlines  of  the  half-mountainous  shore  on  the 
other.  White-walled  churches  with  silver  domes  appear 
here  and  there  on  the  hills,  surrounded  by  little  villages  of 
unpainted  wooden  houses,  with  elaborately  carved  and  dec- 
orated gables;  deep  valleys,  shaggy  with  hazel  bushes, 
break  through  the  wall  of  bluffs  on  the  right  at  intervals, 
and  afford  glimpses  of  a  rich  farming  country  in  the  inte- 
rior; and  now  and  then,  in  sheltered  nooks  half  up  the 
mountain-side  overlooking  the  river,  appear  the  cream- 
white  walls  and  gilded  domes  of  secluded  monasteries,  ris- 
ing out  of  masses  of  dark-green  foliage.  Sometimes,  for 
half  an  hour  together,  the  steamer  plows  her  way  steadily 
down  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and  the  picturesque  right 
bank  glides  past  like  a  magnificent  panorama  with  a  field 
of  vision  ten  miles  wide ;  and  then  suddenly,  to  avoid  a 
bar,  the  vessel  sweeps  in  towards  the  land,  until  the  wide 
panorama  narrows  to  a  single  vivid  picture  of  a  quaint 
Russian  hamlet  which  looks  like  an  artistically  contrived 
scene  in  a  theater.  It  is  so  near  that  you  can  distinguish 
the  features  of  the  laughing  peasant  girls  who  run  down 
into  the  foreground  to  wave  their  handkerchiefs  at  the  pass- 
ing steamer ;  or  you  can  talk  in  an  ordinary  tone  of  voice 
with  the  muzhiks  in  red  shirts  and  black  velvet  trousers 
who  are  lying  on  the  grassy  bluff  in  front  of  the  green- 
domed  village  church.  But  it  lasts  only  a  moment.  Before 
you  have  fairly  grasped  the  details  of  the  strange  Russian 
picture  it  has  vanished,  and  the  steamer  glides  swiftly  into 
a  new  reach  of  the  river,  where  there  is  not  a  sign  of  human 
2 


18 


SIBERIA 


liabitation,  aud  where  the  cliffs  on  one  side  and  the  forest 
on  the  other  seem  to  be  parts  of  a  vast  primeval  wilderness. 
Fascinated  by  the  picturesque  beauty  of  the  majestic  Vol- 
ga and  the  ever-changing  novelty  of  the  scenes  successively 
presented  to  us  as  we  crossed  from  side  to  side,  or  swept 
around  great  bends  into  new  landscapes  and  new  reaches  of 
tranquil  water,  we  could  not  bear  to  leave  the  hurricane 
deck  until  long  after  dark.     The  fresh,  cool  air  was  then 


<^. 


CT 


A  v6lga  river  hamlet. 

filled  with  the  blended  fragrance  of  flowery  meadows  and 
damp  forest  glens ;  the  river  lay  like  an  expanse  of  shining 
steel  between  banks  whose  impenetrable  blackness  was  in- 
tensified rather  than  relieved  by  a  few  scattered  spangles  of 
light ;  and  from  some  point  far  away  in  the  distance  came 
the  faint  voice  of  a  timber  rafter,  or  a  floating  fisherman, 
singing  that  song  dear  to  the  heart  of  every  Russian  boat- 
man—  Vhiis  po  mdtushke po  Volge  [Down  the  Mother  Volga]. 
After  drinking  a  few  tumblers  of  fragrant  tea  at  the  little 
center-table  in  the  steamer's  small  but  cozy  cabin,  we  un- 


FROM   ST.   PETERSBURG   TO   PERM  19 

rolled  the  blankets  and  pillows  with  which  we  had  provided 
ourselves  in  anticipation  of  the  absence  of  beds,  and  bivou- 
acked, as  Russian  travelers  are  accustomed  to  do,  on  the 
long  leather-covered  couches  that  occupy  most  of  the  floor 
space  in  a  Russian  steamer,  and  that  make  the  cabin  look  a 
little  like  an  English  railway  carriage  with  all  the  partitions 
removed. 

About  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  was  awakened  by  the 
persistent  blowing  of  the  steamer's  whistle,  followed  by  the 
stoppage  of  the  machinery,  the  jar  of  falling  gang-planks, 
and  the  confused  trampling  of  a  multitude  of  feet  over  my 
head.  Presuming  that  we  had  arrived  at  Kazan,  I  went 
on  deck.  The  sun  was  about  an  hour  high  and  the  river  lay 
like  a  quivering  mass  of  liquid  silver  between  our  steamer 
and  the  smooth,  vividly  green  slopes  of  the  high  western 
bank.  On  the  eastern  side,  and  close  at  hand,  was  a  line  of 
the  black  hulls  with  yellow  roofs  and  deck-houses  that  serve 
along  the  Volga  as  landing-stages,  and  beside  them  lay  half 
a  dozen  passenger  steamers,  blowing  their  whistles  at  inter- 
vals and  flying  all  their  holiday  flags.  Beyond  them  and 
just  above  high-water  mark  on  the  barren,  sandy  shore  was 
a  row  of  heterogeneous  wooden  shops  and  lodging-houses, 
which,  but  for  a  lavish  display  of  color  in  walls  and  roofs, 
would  have  suggested  a  street  of  a  mining  settlement  in 
Idaho  or  Montana.  There  were  in  the  immediate  foreground 
no  other  buildings ;  but  on  a  low  bluff  far  away  in  the  dis- 
tance, across  a  flat  stretch  of  marshy  land,  there  could  be 
seen  a  mass  of  walls,  towers,  minarets,  and  shining  domes, 
which  recalled  to  my  mind  in  some  obscure  way  the  impres- 
sion made  upon  me  as  a  child  by  a  quaint  picture  of  "Vanity 
Fair"  in  an  illustrated  copy  of  the  "Pilgrim's  Progress." 
It  was  the  famous  old  Tatar  city  of  Kazan.  At  one  time, 
centuries  ago,  the  bluff  upon  which  the  kremlin  of  Kazan 
stands  was  washed  by  the  waters  of  the  Volga ;  but  it  has 
been  left  four  or  five  miles  inland  by  the  slow  shifting  of 
the  river's  bed  to  the  westward ;  and  the  distant  view  of  the 


20  SIBERIA 

city  which  cue  now  gets  from  the  shore  is  ouly  just  euough 
to  stimulate  the  imagination  and  to  excite,  without  gratify- 
ing, the  curiosity. 

The  pn'sfini  or  steamer-hmding  of  Kazan,  however,  is 
quite  as  remarkable  in  its  way  as  the  city  itself.  The  build- 
ers of  the  shops,  hotels,  and  "rooms  for  arrivers"  on  the 
river  bank,  finding  themselves  unable,  with  the  scanty  ma- 
terials at  their  command,  to  render  their  architecture  strik- 
ing and  admirable  in  form,  resolved  to  make  it  at  least 
dazzling  and  attractive  in  color ;  and  the  result  is  a  sort  of 
materialized  architectural  aurora  borealis,  which  astounds 
if  it  does  not  gratify  the  beholder.  While  our  steamer  was 
lying  at  the  landing  I  noted  a  chocolate-brown  house  with 
yellow  window  shutters  and  a  green  roof ;  a  lavender  house 
with  a  shining  tin  roof ;  a  crimson  house  with  an  emerald 
roof;  a  sky-blue  house  with  a  red  roof;  an  orange  house 
with  an  olive  roof ;  a  house  painted  a  bright  metallic  green 
all  over ;  a  house  diversified  with  dark-blue,  light-blue,  red, 
gi'een,  and  chocolate-brown ;  and,  finally,  a  most  extraordi- 
nary building  which  displayed  the  whole  chromatic  scale 
within  the  compass  of  three  stories  and  an  attic.  What  per- 
manent effect,  if  any,  is  produced  upon  the  optic  nerves 
of  the  inhabitants  by  the  habitual  contemplation  of  their 
brilliantly  colored  and  sharply  contrasted  dwellings  I  am 
unable  to  say ;  but  I  no  longer  wonder  that  prekrdsni,  the 
Russian  word  for  "  beautiful,"  means  literally  "  very  red  " ; 
nor  that  a  Russian  singer  imagines  himself  to  be  using  a 
highly  complimentary  phrase  when  he  describes  a  pretty- 
girl  as  krdsnaya  devitsa  [a  red  maiden].  When  I  think  of 
that  steamboat-landing  at  Kazan  I  am  only  surprised  that 
the  Russian  language  has  not  produced  such  forms  of  met- 
aphorical expression  as  "a  red-and-green  maiden,"  "a  purple 
scarlet-and-blue  melody,"  or  "a  crimson-yellow-chocolate- 
brown  poem."  It  would  be,  so  to  speak,  a  red-white-and- 
blue  convenience  if  one  could  express  admiration  in  terms 
of  color,  and  use  the  whole  chromatic  scale  to  give  force  to 
a  superlative. 


FROM   ST.   PETERSBURG   TO   PERM  21 

About  seven  o'clock  passengers  began  to  arrive  in  carriages 
and  droshkies  from  the  city  of  Kazan,  and  before  eight 
o'clock  all  were  on  board,  the  last  warning  whistle  had 
sounded,  the  lines  had  been  cast  off,  and  we  were  again  under 
way.  It  was  Sunday  morning,  and  as  the  weather  was  clear 
and  warm  we  spent  nearly  the  whole  day  on  the  hurricane 
deck,  enjoying  the  sunshine  and  the  exhilarating  sense  of 
swift  movement,  drinking  in  the  odorous  air  that  came  to 
us  from  the  forest-clad  hills  on  the  western  bank,  and  mak- 
ing notes  or  sketches  of  strange  forms  of  boats,  barges,  and 
rafts  which  presented  themselves  from  time  to  time,  and 
which  would  have  been  enough  to  identify  the  Yolga  as  a 
Russian  river  even  had  we  been  unable  to  see  its  shores. 
First  came  a  long,  stately  "  caravan"  of  eight  or  ten  huge 
black  barges,  like  dismantled  ocean  steamers,  ascending 
the  river  slowly  in  single  file  behind  a  powerful  tug ;  then 
followed  a  curious  kedging  barge,  with  high  bow  and  stern 
and  a  horse-power  windlass  amidships,  pulling  itself  slowly 
up-stream  by  winding  in  cables  attached  to  kedge  anchors 
which  were  carried  ahead  and  dropped  in  turn  by  two  or 
three  boats'  crews;  and  finally  we  passed  a  little  Russian 
hamlet  of  ready-made  houses,  with  elaborately  carved 
gables,  standing  on  an  enormous  timber  raft  100  feet  in 
width  by  500  in  length,  and  intended  for  sale  in  the  tree- 
less region  along  the  lower  Volga  and  around  the  Caspian 
Sea.  The  bareheaded,  red-shirted,  and  blue-gowned  popu- 
lation of  this  floating  settlement  were  gathered  in  a  pictur- 
esque group  around  a  blazing  camp-fire  near  one  end  of  the 
raft,  drinking  tea ;  and  I  could  not  help  fancying  that  I  was 
looking  at  a  fragment  of  a  peasant  \allage  which  had  in 
some  way  gotten  adrift  in  a  freshet  and  was  miraculously 
floating  down  the  river  with  all  its  surviving  inhabitants. 
Now  and  then  there  came  to  us  faintly  across  the  water  the 
musical  chiming  of  bells  from  the  golden-domed  churches 
here  and  there  on  the  right  bank,  and  every  few  moments 
we  passed  a  large  six-oared  lodka  full  of  men  and  women  in 
bright-colored  costumes,  on  their  way  to  church  service. 


SIBERIA 


About  eleven  o'clock  Sunday  morning  we  left  the  broad, 
tranquil  Volga  and  tui'ued  into  the  swifter  and  muddier 
Kama,  a  river  which  rises  in  the  mountains  of  the  Ural  on 


^j  Jid' 


A  PEASANT  WOMAN  OF   SIMBIRSK. 


the  Siberian  frontier,  and  pursues  a  southwesterly  course 
to  its  junction  with  the  Volga,  fifty  or  sixty  miles  below 
Kazan.  In  going  from  one  river  to  the  other  we  noticed  a 
marked  change,  not  only  in  the  appearance  of  the  people, 


FKOM   ST.   PETERSBURG   TO   PERM  23 

villages,  boats,  and  landing-stages,  but  in  the  aspect  of  the 
whole  country.     Everything  seemed  stranger,  more  primi- 
tive, and,  in  a  certain  sense,  wilder.    The  banks  of  the  Kama 
were  less  thickly  inhabited  and  more  generally  covered 
with  forests  than  those  of  the  Volga;  the  white-walled  mon- 
asteries which  had  given  picturesqueness  and  human  in- 
terest to  so  many  landscapes  between  Nizhni  Novgorod 
and  Kazan  were  no  longer  to  be  seen ;  the  barges  were  of 
a  ruder,  more  primitive  type,  with  carved  railings  and  spi- 
rally striped   red-and-blue   masts   surmounted   by  gilded 
suns;  and  the  crowds  of  peasants  on  the  landing-stages  were 
dressed  in  costumes  whose  originality  of  design  and  crude 
brightness  of  color  showed  that  they  had  been  little  af- 
fected by  the  sobering  and  conventionalizing  influence  of 
Western   civilization.      The  bright   colors  of  the  peasant 
costumes  were  attributable  perhaps,  in  part,  to  the  fact 
that,  as  it  was  Sunday,  the  youths  and  maidens  came  down 
to  the  steamer  in  holiday  attire  ;  but  we  certainly  had  not 
before  seen  in  any  part  of  Russia  young  men  arrayed  in 
blue,  crimson,  purple,  pink,  and  violet  shirts,  nor  young 
women   dressed  in  lemon-yellow  gowns,   scarlet  aprons, 
short  pink  over- jackets,  and  lilac  head-kerchiefs. 

Our  four  days'  jom^ney  up  the  river  Kama  was  not 
marked  by  any  particularly  noteworthy  incident,  but  it 
was,  nevertheless,  a  novel  and  a  deUghtful  experience.  The 
weather  was  as  perfect  as  June  weather  can  anywhere  be ; 
the  scenery  was  always  varied  and  attractive,  and  some- 
times beautifully  wild  and  picturesque ;  the  foliage  of  the 
poplars,  aspens,  and  silver-birches  that  clothed  the  steep 
river-banks,  and  in  places  overhung  the  water  so  as  almost 
to  sweep  the  hurricane  deck,  had  the  first  exquisite  green- 
ness and  freshness  of  early  summer ;  and  the  open  glades 
and  meadows,  which  the  steamer  frequently  skirted  at  a 
distance  of  not  more  than  fifteen  or  twenty  feet,  were  blue 
with  forget-me-nots  or  yellow  with  the  large  double  flowers 
of  the  European  trollius.    At  every  landing-place  peasant 


24  SIBERIA 

children  offered  for  sale  great  bunches  of  lilies-of -the- valley, 
and  vases  of  these  fragrant  flowers,  provided  by  the  stew- 
ard, kept  our  little  diniug-saloon  constantly  filled  with  deli- 
cate perfume.  Neither  in  the  weather,  nor  in  the  scenery, 
nor  in  the  vegetation  was  there  anything  to  suggest  an 
approach  to  the  frontier  of  Siberia.  The  climate  seemed  al- 
most Califoruian  in  its  clearness  and  warmth ;  flowers  blos- 
somed everywhere  in  the  greatest  profusion  and  luxuriance ; 
every  evening  we  heard  nightingales  singing  in  the  forests 
beside  the  river ;  and  after  sunset,  when  the  wind  was  fair, 
many  of  the  passengers  caused  samovars  to  be  brought  up 
and  tables  to  be  spread  on  the  hurricane  deck,  and  sat  drink- 
ing tea  and  smoking  cigarettes  in  the  odorous  night  air 
until  the  glow  of  the  strange  northern  twilight  faded  away 
over  the  hills.  So  comfortable,  pleasant,  and  care-free  had 
been  our  voyage  up  the  Kama  that  when,  on  Wednesday, 
June  10,  it  ended  at  the  city  of  Perm,  we  bade  the  little 
steamer  Alexander  good-by  with  a  feeling  of  sincere  regret. 


CHAPTER  II 

ACEOSS    THE   SIBEKIAN   FRONTIER 

IN  the  city  of  Perm,  where  we  spent  one  night,  we  had 
our  first  skirmish  with  the  Russian  police ;  and  although 
the  incident  has  intrinsically  little  importance,  it  is  perhaps 
worth  recital  as  an  illustration  of  the  suspicion  with  which 
strangers  are  regarded  on  the  great  exile  route  to  Siberia, 
and  of  the  unlimited  power  of  the  Russian  police  to  arrest 
and  examine  with  or  without  adequate  cause.  Late  in  the 
afternoon  on  the  day  of  our  arrival,  Mr.  Frost  and  I  set  out 
afoot  for  the  summit  of  a  high  hill  just  east  of  the  town, 
which  we  thought  would  afford  a  good  point  of  view  for  a 
sketch.  In  making  our  way  toward  it  we  happened  to  pass 
the  city  prison;  and  as  this  was  one  of  the  first  Russian 
prisons  we  had  seen,  and  was,  moreover,  on  the  exile  route  to 
Siberia,  we  naturally  looked  at  it  with  interest  and  attention. 
Shortly  after  passing  it  we  discovered  that  the  hill  was 
more  distant  than  we  had  supposed  it  to  be;  and  as  the 
afternoon  was  far  advanced,  we  decided  to  postpone  our 
sketching  excursion  until  the  following  day.  We  thereupon 
retraced  our  steps,  passed  the  prison  the  second  time,  and 
returned  to  our  hotel.  Early  the  next  morning  we  again 
set  out  for  the  hill ;  and  as  we  did  not  know  any  better  or 
more  direct  route  to  it  we  took  again  the  street  that  led 
past  the  prison.  On  this  occasion  we  reached  our  destina- 
tion. Mr.  Frost  made  a  sketch  of  the  city  and  its  suburbs, 
and  at  the  expiration  of  an  hour,  or  an  hour  and  a  half,  we 
strolled  homeward.    On  a  large,  open  common  near  the  pri- 


26 


SIBEKIA 


son  we  were  met  by  two  (Iroshkies,  in  which  were  four 
officers  armed  with  swords  and  revolvers,  and  in  full  uniform. 
I  noticed  that  the  first  couple  regarded  us  with  attentive 


scrutiny  as  they  passed ;  but  I  was  not  as  familiar  at  that 
time  as  I  am  now  with  the  uniforms  of  the  Russian  police 
and  gendarmes,  and  I  did  not  recognize  them.  The  two 
officers  in  the  second  droshky  left  their  vehicle  just  before 


ACROSS   THE   SIBERIAN   FRONTIER  27 

reaeliing  us,  walked  away  from  each  other  until  they  were 
forty  or  fifty  feet  apart,  and  then  advanced  on  converging 
lines  to  meet  us.  Upon  looking  around  I  found  that  the 
first  pair  had  left  their  carriages  and  separated  in  a  similar 
way  Ijehind  us,  and  were  converging  upon  us  from  that  di- 
rection. Then  for  the  first  time  it  flashed  upon  my  mind 
that  they  were  police  officers,  and  that  we,  for  some  incon- 
ceivable reason,  were  objects  of  suspicion,  and  were  about 
to  be  arrested.  As  they  closed  in  upon  us,  one  of  them,  a 
good-looking  gendarme  officer  about  thirty  years  of  age, 
bowed  to  us  stiffly,  and  said,  "  Will  you  permit  me  to  in- 
quire who  you  ai*e ! " 

"  Certainly,"  I  replied ;  "  we  are  American  travelers." 

"  Where  are  you  from  ?  " 

"  Of  course  from  America." 

"  I  mean  where  did  you  come  from  last  ?  " 

"  From  St.  Petersburg,  Moscow,  and  Nizhni  Novgorod." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  To  Siberia." 

"  Ah  !     To  Siberia  !     To  what  part  of  Siberia  ?  " 

"  To  all  parts." 

"Allow  me  to  inquire  what  you  are  going  to  Siberia  for  ?  " 

"  We  are  going  there  to  travel." 

"  What  is  the  object  of  your  travels  ?  " 

"  To  see  the  country  and  the  people." 

"  But  tourists  [with  a  contemptuous  intonation]  are  not  in 
the  habit  of  going  to  Siberia.  You  must  have  some  partic- 
ular object  in  view.  Tell  me,  if  you  please,  exactly  what 
that  object  is." 

I  explained  to  him  that  American  travelers — if  not  tour- 
ists —  are  in  the  habit  of  going  everywhere,  and  that  the 
objects  they  usually  have  in  view  are  the  study  of  people 
and  places,  and  the  acquirement  of  knowledge.  He  did 
not  seem,  however,  to  be  satisfied  with  this  vague  general 
statement,  and  plied  me  with  all  sorts  of  questions  intended 
to  elicit  a  confession  of  our  real  aims  and  purposes  in  going 


28  SIBERIA 

to  such  a  country  as  Siberia.  Finally  he  said  with  increas- 
ing seriousness  and  severity,  "Yesterday  you  deigned  to 
walk  past  the  prison." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied. 

"  What  did  you  do  that  for ! " 

"We  were  going  up  on  the  hill  to  get  a  view  of  the 
town." 

"But  you  did  not  go  up  on  the  hill  —  you  merely  walked 
past  the  prison,  looked  at  it  attentively  as  you  passed,  and 
then  came  back." 

I  explained  that  the  hour  was  late  and  that  after  passing 
the  prison  we  decided  to  postpone  our  excursion  to  the  top 
of  the  hill  until  morning. 

"  Both  in  going  and  returning,"  he  continued,  "  you 
devoted  all  your  attention  to  the  prison.  This  morning  it 
was  the  same  thing  over  again.  Now,  what  were  you  look- 
ing at  the  prison  in  that  way  for  ?  " 

When  I  understood  from  these  questions  how  we  hap- 
pened to  fall  under  suspicion,  I  could  not  help  smiling  in 
the  officer's  face;  but  as  there  was  no  responsive  levity, 
and  as  all  four  officers  seemed  to  regard  this  looking  at  a 
prison  as  an  exceedingly  grave  offense,  I  again  went  into 
explanations. 

"Where  are  you  staying  in  the  city?"  inquired  one  of 
the  police  officers. 

"  At  the  Bourse  hotel." 

"  How  long  do  you  intend  to  remain  here  ?  " 

"  We  intended  to  leave  here  to-night." 

"  For  Ekaterinburg  ? " 

"  For  Ekaterinburg." 

"  Where  did  you  learn  to  speak  Russian  I "  inquired  the 
chief  of  gendarmes,  taking  up  the  examination  in  turn. 

"  In  Siberia,"  I  replied. 

"  You  have  been  there  before  then  1 " 

"  I  have." 

"  Do  you  speak  German  1 " 


ACROSS   THE   SIBERIAN    FRONTIER  29 

"  Very  imperfectly — I  have  studied  it." 

"  What  were  you  doing  in  Siberia  before  ?  " 

"  Trying  to  build  a  telegraph  line — but  may  I  be  permit- 
ted to  inquire  what  is  the  object  of  all  these  questions  I " 

The  gendarme  officer,  to  whom  my  statements  were  evi- 
dently unsatisfactory,  made  no  reply  except  to  ask,  rather 
peremptorily,  for  my  passport.  When  informed  that  our 
passports  were  at  the  hotel  he  said  that  we  must  regard  our- 
selves as  under  arrest  until  we  could  satisfactorily  establish 
our  identity  and  explain  our  business  in  Perm.  We  were 
then  separated,  Mr.  Frost  being  put  into  one  droshlqj  under 
guard  of  the  gendarme  officer,  while  I  took  my  seat  in  an- 
other beside  a  gray-bearded  official  whom  I  took  to  be  the 
chief  of  police.  The  driver  of  my  droshki/  happened  to  be 
a  highway  robber  of  a  hackman  who  had  tried  that  very 
morning  to  make  me  pay  three  times  the  usual  rate  for  five 
minutes'  ride,  and  when  he  saw  me  taken  into  custody  he 
was  unable  to  conceal  his  delight. 

"  They  're  a  bad  lot,  your  high  nobility,"  he  said  to  the 
chief  of  police  as  we  drove  away  in  the  direction  of  the 
town ;  "  only  a  little  while  ago  they  hired  my  droshhj  and 
then  tried  to  cheat  me  out  of  half  my  fare." 

"  How  much  did  they  give  you  ?  "  asked  the  police  ofl&cer 
with  assumed  sympathy. 

The  driver  hesitated. 

"  Fifty  /v0/je7v5,"  I  said  indignantly,  "  and  it  was  twice  what 
he  ought  to  have  had." 

The  driver  began  to  asseverate,  by  all  he  held  sacred,  that 
he  had  not  received  half  as  much  as  the  service  was  worth; 
but  before  he  had  spoken  a  dozen  words,  the  chief  of  police, 
who  evidently  knew  exactly  how  far  we  had  ridden  in  a 
droslih)  that  morning,  interrupted  him  with  a  stern  com- 
mand "  Malclil  razboinik  !  [Shut  your  mouth,  you  brigand.] 
They  gave  you  three  times  as  much  as  you  were  entitled  to, 
and  still  you  complain !  A  stick  on  the  bare  back  is  what 
you  need — twenty  blows  laid  on  hot!" 


30  SIBEKIA 

The  astouished  driver,  not  daring  to  make  any  reply  to 
the  all-powerful  chief  of  police,  relieved  his  feelings  by  flog- 
ging his  horse,  and  we  were  borne  in  a  tornado  of  dust  to 
the  door  of  the  Bourse  hotel. 

I  invited  the  officers  to  my  room,  gave  them  cigarettes, 
offered  to  get  them  tea,  and  treated  them  in  every  way  as  if 
they  were  guests  ;  but  this  unexpected  courtesy  seemed  to 
puzzle  rather  than  placate  them.  They  evidently  regarded 
us  as  political  conspirators  about  to  make  an  attempt  to 
release  somebody  from  the  Perm  prison,  and  when  I  handed 
my  passport  to  the  young  gendarme  officer  with  a  polite 
"Izvoltia"  [It  is  at  your  service],  he  looked  at  me  as  if  I 
were  some  new  species  of  dangerous  wild  animal  not  classi- 
fied in  the  books,  and  consequently  of  unknown  power  for 
evil.  Our  passports  did  not  seem,  for  some  reason,  to  be 
satisfactory ;  but  the  production  of  the  letter  of  recommen- 
dation from  the  Eussian  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  brought 
the  comedy  of  errors  to  an  abrupt  termination.  The  gen- 
darme officer's  face  flushed  a  little  as  he  read  it,  and  after  a 
whispered  consultation  with  the  chief  of  police  he  came  to  me 
with  some  embarrassment  and  said  that  he  hoped  we  would 
pardon  what  was  evidently  an  "unfortunate  misunderstand- 
ing"; that  they  had  taken  "us  for  two  important  German 
criminals  (!)  of  whom  they  were  in  search,  and  that  in  detain- 
ing us  they  were  only  doing  what  they  believed  to  be  their 
duty.  He  hoped  that  they  had  not  treated  us  discourte- 
ously, and  said  that  it  would  gratify  them  very  much  if 
we  would  shake  hands  with  them  as  an  evidence  that  we 
did  not  harbor  any  resentment  on  account  of  this  "la- 
mentable mistake."  We  shook  hands  solemnly  with  them 
all,  and  they  bowed  themselves  out.  This  little  adven- 
ture, while  it  interested  me  as  a  practical  illustration  of 
Russian  police  methods,  made  me  feel  some  anxiety  with 
regard  to  the  future.  If  we  were  arrested  in  this  way 
before  we  had  even  reached  the  Siberian  frontier,  and  for 
merely  looking  at  the  outside  of  a  prison,  what  probably 


ACROSS   THE   SIBERIAN   FRONTIER 


31 


would  happen  to  us  when  we  should  seriously  begin  our 
work  of  investigation  ?  '■ 

Perm,  which  is  the  capital  of  the  province  of  the  same 
name,  is  a  city  of  32,000  inhabitants,  situated  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  river  Kama  about  125  miles  from  the  boundary 
line  of  European  Russia.  It  is  the  western  terminus  of  the 
Ural  Mountain  railway,  and  through  it  passes  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  enormous  volume  of  Siberian  commerce.  In 
outward  appearance  it  does  not  differ  materially  from  other 
Russian  provincial  towns  of  its  class.  It  is  cleaner  and 
apparently  more  prosperous  than  Nizhni  Novgorod,  but 
it  is  much  less  picturesque  than  the  latter  both  in  archi- 
tecture and  in  situation. 


1  Almost  every  foreign  traveler  who 
has  made  a  serious  attempt  to  study 
Russian  life  and  has  gone  for  that  pur- 
pose into  the  country  has  been  arrested 
at  least  once.  Lansdell,  the  English 
clergyman,  was  arrested  near  this  same 
city  of  Perm  in  1882,  as  a  distributor  of 
revolutionary  pamphlets  [^Athenceum, 
September  16,  1882];  Mackenzie  Wal- 
lace was  arrested  "by  mistake"  on  the 
bank  of  the  Pruth  as  he  returned  fi-om 
Austria  in  1872  [Wallace's  i?«S67"«,  page 
209]  ;  and  even  the  great  German  sci- 
entist, Baron  von  Humboldt,  did  not 
wholly  escape  suspicion.  The  Russian 
historical  review  liiisslaya  Starind  has 
recently  published  a  letter  from  a  po- 
lice prefect  in  the  little  Siberian  town 
of  Ishim,  written  in  1829,  when  Hum- 
boldt was  in  that  part  of  the  empire 
making  scientific  reseaches.  The  letter, 
which  is  addressed  to  the  governor- 
general,  is  as  follows  : 

"  A  few  days  ago  there  arrived  here 
a  German  of  shortish  stature,  insignifi- 
cant appearance,  fussy,  and  bearing 
a  letter  of  introduction  from  your  Ex- 
cellency to  me.  I  accordingly  received 
him  politely ;  but  I  must  say  that  I  find 
him  suspicious,  and  even  dangerous. 
I  disliked  him  from  the  first.  He  talks 
too  much  and  despises  my  hospitality. 
He  pays  no  attention  to  the  leading 


ofiicials  of  the  town  and  associates  with 
Poles  and  other  political  criminals.  I 
take  the  liberty  of  informing  your 
Excellency  that  his  intercourse  with 
political  criminals  does  not  escape 
my  vigilance.  On  one  occasion  he  pro- 
ceeded with  them  to  a  hill  overlooking 
the  town.  They  took  a  box  with  them 
and  got  out  of  it  a  long  tube  which  we 
all  took  for  a  gun.  After  fastening  it  to 
three  feet  they  pointed  it  down  on  the 
town  and  one  after  another  examined 
whether  it  was  properly  sighted.  This 
was  evidently  a  great  danger  for  the 
town  which  is  built  entirely  of  wood ; 
so  I  sent  a  detachment  of  troops  with 
loaded  rifles  to  watch  the  German  on 
the  hill.  If  the  treaeheroiis  machina- 
tions of  this  man  justify  my  suspicions, 
we  shall  be  ready  to  give  our  lives  for 
the  Tsar  and  Holy  Russia.  I  send  this 
despatch  to  your  Excellency  by  special 
messenger." 

A  letter  more  characteristic  of  the 
petty  Russian  police  ofl&cer  was  never 
penned.  The  civilized  world  is  to  be 
congratulated  that  the  brilliant  career 
of  the  great  von  Humboldt  was  not  cut 
short  by  a  Cossack  bullet  or  a  police 
saber,  while  he  was  taking  sights  with 
a  theodolite  in  that  little  Siberian  town 
of  Ishim. 


32  SIBERIA 

Ou  Thursday,  June  11,  at  half-past  nine  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  we  left  Perm  by  the  Ural  Mountain  i"ailroad  for 
Ekaterinburg.  As  we  were  very  tired  from  two  days  spent 
almost  wholly  in  walking  about  the  streets  of  the  former 
city,  we  converted  two  of  the  extension  seats  of  the  railway 
carriage  into  a  bed,  and  with  the  help  of  our  blankets  and 
pillows  succeeded  in  getting  a  very  comfortalilo  night's  rest. 

When  I  awoke,  about  eight  o'clock  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, the  train  was  standing  at  the  station  of  Biser  near  the 
summit  of  the  Urals.  The  sun  was  shining  brightly  in  an 
unclouded  sky ;  the  morning  air  was  cool,  fresh,  and  laden 
with  the  odor  of  flowers  and  the  resinous  fragrance  of 
mountain  pines;  a  cuckoo  was  singing  in  a  neighboring 
grove  of  birches ;  and  the  glory  of  early  summer  was  over 
all  the  earth.  Frost  made  hasty  botanical  researches  be- 
side the  railroad  track  and  as  far  away  from  the  train 
as  he  dared  to  venture,  and  came  back  with  alpine  roses, 
daisies,  wild  pansies,  trollius,  and  quantities  of  other  flowers 
to  me  unknown. 

The  scenery  of  the  Ural  where  the  railroad  crosses  the 
range  resembles  in  general  outline  that  of  West  Virginia 
where  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  railroad  crosses  the  Allegha- 
nies;  but  it  differs  somewhat  from  the  latter  in  coloring, 
owing  to  the  greater  preponderance  in  the  Ural  of  evergreen 
trees.  All  the  forenoon,  after  leaving  Biser,  the  train 
swept  around  great  curves  in  a  serpentine  course  among 
the  forest-clad  hills,  sometimes  running  for  an  hour  at  a 
time  through  a  dense  larch  wood,  where  there  was  not  a 
sign  of  human  life ;  sometimes  dashing  past  placer  mining 
camps,  where  hundreds  of  men  and  women  were  at  work, 
washing  auriferous  gravel  ;  and  sometimes  coming  out 
into  beautiful  park-like  openings  diversified  with  graceful 
clumps  of  silver  birch,  and  carpeted  with  turf  almost  as 
smooth  and  green  as  that  of  an  English  lawn.  Flowers 
were  everywhere  abundant.  Eoses,  dandelions,  violets, 
wild  strawberries,  and  lilies  of  the  valley  were  in  blossom 


ACROSS   THE   SIBERIAN   FRONTIER  33 

all  along  the  track,  and  occasionally  we  crossed  an  open 
glade  in  the  heart  of  the  forest  where  the  grass  was  almost 
entii'ely  hidden  by  a  vivid  sheet  of  yellow  trollius. 

We  were  greatly  surprised  to  find  in  this  wild  mining 
region  of  the  Ural,  and  on  the  very  remotest  frontier  of 
European  Russia,  a  railroad  so  well  built,  perfectly  equipped, 
and  luxuriously  appointed  as  the  road  over  which  we  were 
traveling  from  Perm  to  Ekaterinburg.  The  stations  were 
the  very  best  we  had  seen  in  Russia;  the  road-bed  was 
solid  and  well  ballasted ;  the  rolling  stock  would  not  have 
suffered  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  best  lines  in  the 
empire;  and  the  whole  railroad  property  seemed  to  be  in 
the  most  perfect  possible  order.  Unusual  attention  had  been 
paid  evidently  to  the  ornamentation  of  the  gi'ounds  lying 
adjacent  to  the  stations  and  the  track.  Even  the  verst- 
posts  were  set  in  neatly  fitted  mosaics  three  or  four  feet  in 
diameter  of  colored  Ural  stones.  The  station  of  Nizhni 
Tagil,  on  the  Asiatic  slope  of  the  mountains,  where  we 
stopped  half  an  hour 
for  dinner,  would  have 
been  in  the  highest  de- 
gree creditable  to  the 
best  railroad  in  the 
United  States.  The 
substantial  station 
building,  which  was 
a  hundredf  eet  or  more 
in  length,  with  a  cov- 
ered platform  twenty 
feet  wide  extending  along  the  whole  front,  was  tastefully 
painted  in  shades  of  brown  and  had  a  red  sheet-iron  roof. 
It  stood  in  the  middle  of  a  large,  artistically  planned  park 
or  garden,  whose  smooth,  velvety  greensward  was  broken 
by  beds  of  blossoming  flowers  and  shaded  by  the  feathery 
foliage  of  graceful  white-stemmed  birches ;  whose  winding 
walks  were  bordered  by  neatly  trimmed  hedges ;  and  whose 
3 


A    1;A1LK<>AD    \  Eli!<l'   i'OST. 


34  SIBERIA 

air  was  filled  with  the  perfume  of  wild  roses  and  the  miir- 
uiuriii*>:  plash  of  falling  water  from  the  slender  jet  of  a 
sparkling  fountain.  The  dining-room  of  the  station  had  a 
floor  of  polished  oak  inlaid  in  geometi'ieal  patterns,  a  high 
dado  of  dark  carved  wood,  walls  covered  with  oak-grain 
paper,  and  a  stucco  cornice  in  relief.  Down  the  center  of 
the  room  ran  a  long  dining-table,  beautifully  set  with  taste- 
ful china,  snowy  napkins,  high  glass  epergnes  and  crystal 
candelabra,  and  ornamented  with  potted  plants,  little  cedar 
trees  in  green  tubs,  bouquets  of  cut  flowers,  artistic  pyramids 
of  polished  wine-bottles,  druggists'  jars  of  colored  water, 
and  an  aquarium  full  of  fish,  plants,  and  artificial  rock- 
work.  The  chairs  around  the  table  were  of  dark  hard 
wood,  elaborately  turned  and  carved;  at  one  end  of  the 
room  was  a  costly  clock,  as  large  as  an  American  jeweler's 
"regulator,"  and  at  the  other  end  stood  a  huge  bronzed 
oven,  by  which  the  apartment  was  warmed  in  winter.  The 
waiters  were  all  in  evening  di'ess,  with  low-cut  waistcoats, 
spotless  shirt-fronts,  and  white  ties ;  and  the  cooks,  who 
filled  the  waiters'  orders  as  in  an  English  grill-room,  were 
dressed  from  head  to  foot  in  white  linen  and  wore  square 
white  caps.  It  is  not  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  this  was  one 
of  the  neatest,  most  tastefully  furnished,  and  most  attractive 
public  dining-rooms  that  I  ever  entered  in  any  part  of  the 
world;  and  as  I  sat  there  eating  a  well-cooked  and  well-served 
dinner  of  four  courses,  I  found  it  utterly  impossible  to  realize 
that  I  was  in  the  unheard-of  mining  settlement  of  Nizhni 
Tagil,  on  the  Asiatic  side  of  the  mountains  of  the  Ural. 

Early  in  the  evening  of  Friday,  June  12,  we  arrived  at 
Ekaterinburg.  The  traveler  who  has  not  studied  attentively 
the  geography  of  this  part  of  the  Russian  empire  is  surprised 
to  learn,  upon  reaching  Ekaterinburg,  that  although  he  has 
passed  out  of  Europe  into  Asia  he  has  not  yet  entered 
Siberia.  Most  readers  have  the  impression  that  the  boun- 
dary of  European  Russia  on  the  east  is  everywhere  coter- 
minous with  that  of  Siberia ;  but  such  is  by  no  means  the 
case.     The  little  stone  pillar  that  marks  the  Asiatic  line 


ACROSS   THE   SIBERIAN   FRONTIER  35 

stands  beside  the  railway  track  on  the  crest  of  the  Ural 
mountain  divide ;  while  the  pillar  that  marks  the  Siberian 
line  is  situated  on  the  Ekaterinburg-Tiumen  post  road,  mor6 
than  a  hundred  miles  east  of  the  mountains.  The  effect  of 
this  arrangement  of  boundaries  is  to  throw  a  part  of  the 
European  province  of  Perm  into  Asia,  and  thus  to  separate 
Siberia  from  Russia  proper. 

Ekaterinburg,  which  although  not  the  largest  is  the  most 
cultivated  and  enterprising  town  in  this  part  of  the  empire, 
is  situated  on  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Urals  in  the  Asiatic  por- 
tion of  the  province  of  Perm,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  from  the  Siberian  frontier.  It  impresses  the  traveler 
at  once  as  a  city  that  makes  some  pretensions  to  wealth,  taste, 
and  cultivation.  The  well-built  and  architecturally  effective 
railway  station,  with  its  circumjacent  lawn  and  glowing 
flower-beds,  the  polished  private  carriages  and  drosMles  with 
coachmen  in  livery  that  stand  behind  it,  the  well-dressed,  pros- 
perous looking  gentlemen  that  alight  from  the  train  and  enter 
the  waiting  vehicles,  and  the  white  globes  of  electric  lights 
hanging  here  and  there  over  the  broad  streets,  are  all  signi- 
ficant evidences  of  enterprise,  success,  and  prosperity.  And 
it  is  not  without  reason  that  Ekaterinburg  shows  signs  of 
wealth.  The  famous  mineral  region  of  which  it  is  the  center 
fields  annually  about  $3,335,000  worth  of  gold,  5000  pounds 
of  platinum,  6,700,000  pounds  of  copper,  280,000  tons  of  pig 
iron,  140,000  tons  of  hard  coal,  16,000  tons  of  manganese, 
and  277,000  tons  of  salt ;  to  say  nothing  of  quantities  of 
malachite,  jasper,  beryl,  topaz,  agate,  emeralds,  and  other 
precious  or  semi-precious  stones.^    Of  this  wealth,  which  is 

1  The  precise  quantities  of  the  principal  minerals  taken  from  the  mines  of  the 
Urdl,  in  the  province  of  Perm,  in  1884,  are  as  follows : 

PRODUCTION   OF  PRODUCTION   OF 

Russia  as  a  whole :       Province  of  Perm  :  Russia  as  a  whole  :        Province  of  Perm  : 

Lbs.                               Lbs.  Short  Tons.               Short  Tons. 

Gold 78,408 10,944    Iron 559,901 280,082 

Platinum.    .4,932 4,932    Coal 4,318,583 139,014 

Copper  ..  13,668,732 G.652,988     Manganese      24,323 15,845 

Salt     ...   1,179,023 277,048 


36 


SIBERIA 


produced  almost  at  their  doors,  the  inhabitants  of  Ekaterin- 
bm*g  have  naturally  taken  their  share  ;  and  they  have  used 
it  to  secure  for  themselves  all  the  luxuries  and  opportuni- 
ties for  self-culture  that  are  within  their  reach.  They  have 
organized,  for  example,  the  "Ural  Society  of  Friends  of 
Natural  Science,"  which  holds  regular  meetings  and  pub- 
lishes its  proceedings  and  the  papers  read  by  its  members; 
they  have  established  a  museum  of  anatomy  in  connection 
with  the  Nevyansk  hospital,  and  a  small  Init  promising 
museum  of  natui'al  history  under  the  patronage  of  the  scien- 
tific society ;  they  sustain  two  newspapers  f  they  boast  of 
having  occasionally  a  season  of  opera ;  and  they  recently 
carried  to  a  successful  conclusion  a  scientific,  agricultural, 
and  industrial  exhibition  that  attracted  public  attention 
throughout  Russia  and  brought  visitors  to  Ekaterinburg 
from  almost  all  parts  of  the  empire.  These  evidences  of 
culture  and  enterprise,  judged  by  an  American  standard, 
may  seem  trifling  and  insignificant;  but  they  are  not  so 


The  number  of  ::avods  or  "  works  "  in 
the  province,  including  blast-furnaces, 
rolling-mills,  and  manufactories,  ex- 
ceeds one  hundred ;  and  in  the  produc- 
tion of  wrought  iron,  chrome  iron, 
platinum,  and  copper  Perm  takes  first 
rank  among  the  provinces  of  the  em- 
pire. 

2  About  the  time  that  we  passed 
through  Ekaterinbiirg,  the  censorship 
of  one  of  these  papers — the  "  Week  " — 
was  transferred  to  Moscow.  This  com- 
pelled the  editor  to  send  to  Moscow, 
in  advance,  a  proof  of  every  item  or 
article  that  he  desired  to  use ;  and  as 
the  distance  from  the  place  of  publica- 
tion to  the  place  of  censorial  supervi- 
sion and  back  was  about  1500  miles,  the 
"Week's"  news  was  sometimes  three 
weeks  old  before  it  ceased  to  be  dan- 
gerous. By  this  time,  of  course,  it  had 
ceased  to  be  interesting.  Whether  the 
paper  survived  this  blow  or  not,  I  am 
imable  to  saj'.  The  two  numbers  of  it 
that  appeared  while  we  were  in  that 


part  of  the  empire  contained  nothing 
but  advertisements.  The  editor,  I  pre- 
sume, was  waiting  for  the  expurgated 
proofs  of  his  local  and  telegraphic  news 
to  get  back  from  Moscow  ;  and  it  proba- 
bly did  not  occur  to  him  to  fill  up  his 
reading  columns  with  a  few  of  the  titles 
of  the  Autocrat  of  all  the  Russias,  or  a 
chapter  or  two  of  genealogies  from  the 
Old  Testament. 

The  other  newspaper  in  Ekaterinburg 
is  called  "  The  Active  Correspondent," 
but  how  any  "correspondent"  ventures 
to  be  "  active "  in  a  country  where 
mental  activity  is  officially  regarded  as 
more  dangerous  to  the  state  than  moral 
depravity,  I  do  not  know.  I  invite  the 
attention  of  the  reader  to  the  list  of 
periodicals  that  have  been  punished  or 
suppressed  on  account  of  their  "per- 
nicious activity"  since  the  accession 
to  the  throne  of  Alexander  III.  It  in- 
cludes every  newspaper  published  in 
Siberia.     See  Appendix  B. 


ACllOSS    THE    SIBERIAN    FRONTIER 


37 


common  iu  Russia  as  to  justify  a  traveler  in  passing  them 
without  notice. 

In   external   appearance   Ekaterinburg  does   not  differ 
essentially   from   the   typical   Russian   town  of  its  class. 


liillil 


There  are  the  same  wide,  unpaved  streets  that  one  sees 
everywhere  in  Russia,  the  same  square  log  houses  with 
ornamented  window  casings  and  flatly  pyramidal  tin  roofs, 
the  same  high  board  fences  between  the  scattered  dwel- 


38  SIBERIA 

liiigs,  the  same  white- walled  churches  with  coloi-ed  oi'  gilded 
domes,  and  the  same  f/asfiirnoi  dvor  or  city  bazar.  In  the 
bazars  of  these  Russian  provincial  towns  you  may  find,  if 
you  search  diligently,  almost  evei-ything  that  the  empire 
produces,  and  a  great  many  things  that  it  does  not  produce. 
In  roaming  through  fjastinnoi  dvor  of  Ekaterinburg  a  day 
or  two  after  our  arrival,  we  happened  to  get  into  what 
seemed  to  be  a  small  grocery.  The  chief  clerk  or  proprie- 
tor, a  bright-faced,  intelligent  young  peasant,  answered 
good-humoredly  all  our  questions  with  regard  to  his  busi- 
ness and  stock  in  trade,  allowed  us  to  taste  certain  Asiatic 
commodities  that  were  new  to  us,  and  gave  us  as  much 
information  as  he  could  concerning  a  lot  of  Russian  and 
Chinese  nuts  that  lay  in  open  bags  on  the  counter,  and 
that  attracted  our  attention  because  many  of  them  were 
new  to  us.  After  we  had  examined  them  all,  and  tested 
experimentally  a  few  of  them,  the  young  groceryman  said, 
"I  have  in  the  back  part  of  the  shop  some  very  curious 
nuts  that  were  sold  to  me  a  year  or  two  ago  as  'African 
nuts.'  Whether  they  ever  came  from  Africa  or  not  I  don't 
know, —  the  Lord  only  does  know, —  but  the  people  here 
don't  like  the  taste  of  them  and  won't  buy  them.  If  you 
will  condescend  to  wait  a  moment  I  will  get  a  few." 

"What  do  you  suppose  they  are!"  inquired  Mr.  Frost 
as  the  young  man  went  after  the  "African"  nuts. 

"Brazil  nuts,  very  likely,"  I  replied,  "or  possibly  cocoa- 
nuts.  I  don't  believe  anybody  here  would  know  either  of 
them  by  sight,  and  they  are  the  only  tropical  nuts  that  I 
can  think  of." 

In  a  moment  the  young  groceryman  returned,  holding 
out  toward  us  a  handful  of  the  fruit  of  the  plant  known 
to  science  as  Arachis  hypogaea. 

"  Why,  those  are  peanuts  .^"  shouted  Mr.  Frost  in  a  burst 
of  joyful  recognition.  "Americanski  peanuts,"  he  explained 
enthusiastically  to  the  groceryman,  "  kushat  khorosho " 
[American  peanuts  eat  well],  and  he  proceeded  to  illus- 


ACROSS   THE   SIBERIAN   FRONTIER  39 

trate  this  luminous  statement  by  crushing  the  shell  of  one 
of  them  and  masticating  the  contents  with  an  ostentatious, 
pantomimic  show  of  relish.  Suddenly,  however,  the  ex- 
pression of  his  face  changed,  as  if  the  result  had  not  fully 
justified  his  anticipations,  and  spitting  out  the  crushed 
fragments  of  the  "African"  nut  he  said,  "They  have  n't 
been  roasted." 

"Nada  zharit!"  [It  is  necessary  to  fry]  he  remarked 
impressively  to  the  groceryman,  "Amerikanski  toujours 
zharit"  [American  always  to  fry]. 

"Zharit!"  exclaimed  the  young  groceryman,  to  whom 
fried  nuts  were  a  startling  novelty, — "  How  is  it  possible 
to  fry  them  ?  " 

I  explained  to  him  that  Mr.  Frost  meant  to  say  roast 
them,  and  that  in  America  raw  peanuts  are  not  regarded  as 
fit  to  eat.  To  roast  a  nut,  however,  seemed  to  the  grocery- 
man  quite  as  extraordinary  as  to  fry  one,  and  when  he  was 
informed  that  the  peanut  is  not  the  fruit  of  a  tree,  but  of 
an  herbaceous  plant,  and  that  it  grows  underground,  his 
astonishment  was  boundless.  His  practical,  commercial 
instincts,  however,  soon  resumed  their  sway;  and  when 
we  left  his  shop  he  was  already  preparing  to  roast  a  quan- 
tity of  the  "  wonderful  American  underground  nuts,"  with 
a  view  to  sending  them  out  again  for  trial  as  samples  of  a 
new  importation.  I  trust  that  his  enterprise  has  been 
crowned  with  success,  and  that  the  idlers  of  Ekaterinburg, 
who  obstinately  declined  to  consume  African  nuts  raw,  have 
learned,  long  ere  this,  to  eat  American  peanuts  roasted,  and 
to  like  them  at  least  as  well  as  the  Russian  fruits  of  idle- 
ness—  the  sunflower  seed  and  the  melon  seed.^ 

The  pleasantest  experience  that  we  had  during  our  brief 
stay  in  Ekaterinburg  was  a  visit  that  we  made  to  Mr.  N.  J. 
Nesterofski,  the  cultivated  and  hospitable  superintendent 

1  Loungers  and  idlers  in  Russian  or  talking  with,  one  another,  while  they 
villages,  and  in  municipal  parks,  some-  shell  and  eat  the  seeds  of  the  water- 
times  sit  for  hours  on  wooden  benches  melon  and  the  great  Russian  sunflower, 
in  the  shade,  watching  the  passers-by, 


40  SIBEKIA 

of  the  Berozef  gold  mines.  I  had  brought  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction to  him  from  one  of  his  friends  in  St.  Petersburg ; 
but  upon  reaching  Ekaterinburg  I  discovered  that  he  lived 
ten  or  fifteen  miles  away  in  what  was  known  as  the  Berozef 
mining  district.  I  sent  the  letter  to  him,  however,  at  the 
first  opportunity,  and  on  Monday,  June  15th,  he  drove  into 
the  city  with  a  carriage  and  took  us  out  to  his  house.  The 
route  thither  lay  through  a  rather  wild,  lonely  region,  not 
noticeably  mountainous  but  densely  wooded,  with  a  still, 
black  pond  here  and  there  in  the  midst  of  the  evergreens, 
and  a  thin  fringe  of  buttercups  or  golden  trollius  on  either 
side  of  the  road  to  relieve  a  little  the  somber  gloom  of  the 
forest.  Mr.  Nesterofski's  house,  which  was  situated  in  rather 
a  large  mining  village  of  unpainted  log  cabins,  was  a  com- 
plete surprise  to  travelers  who  had  expected  to  find  in  that 
wild  part  of  the  Ural  little  more  than  the  bare  necessaries 
of  life.  Although  built  of  squared  logs,  it  was  high  and 
spacious,  with  a  metallic  roof,  ornamented  window-casings, 
and  a  substantial  storm  house  at  the  head  of  the  front  steps. 
Our  host  pressed  an  electric  bell  button  at  the  door,  and  in 
a  moment  we  were  admitted  by  a  neatly  dressed  maid-ser- 
vant to  a  spacious  hall,  where  we  removed  our  overcoats 
and  goloshes.  We  were  then  shown  into  the  drawing  room, 
a  beautiful  apartment  hung  with  paper  of  a  dehcate  gray 
tint,  lighted  by  three  long  windows,  filled  with  the  per- 
fume of  fuchsias,  geraniums,  and  splendid  cinnamon  pinks, 
and  luxuriously  furnished  with  rugs,  easy  chairs,  long  mir- 
rors, and  a  grand  piano.  Before  I  recovered  from  the  state 
of  breathless  surprise  into  which  I  was  thrown  by  this 
unexpected  display  of  luxury,  I  found  myself  shaking  hands 
with  Mrs.  Nesterof ski,  a  pleasant-faced  lady  thirty  or  thirty- 
five  years  of  age,  who  welcomed  us  with  warm-hearted  hos- 
pitality, insisted  that  we  must  be  hungry  after  our  long 
ride,  and  invited  us  to  come  out  at  once  to  luncheon.  We 
took  seats  in  the  dining-room  at  a  cozy  little  table,  just  big 
enough  for  four,  upon  which  were  vodka,  excellent  sherry 


ACROSS   THE   SIBERIAN   FRONTIER  41 

and  claret,  bread  and  butter,  Edam  and  cream  cheese,  sar- 
dines, fresh  lettuce  and  radishes;  and  as  soon  as  we  had 
made  a  beginning  by  drinking  the  customary  "fifteen 
drops,"  and  nibbling  at  the  bread,  cheese,  and  radishes,  the 
neat  little  maid-servant  brought  to  us  delicious,  hot  Pozlidr- 
ski  cutlets  with  new  potatoes.  And  all  this  in  an  unheard- 
of  mining  camp  in  the  Asiatic  wilderness  of  the  eastern 
Ural!  If  I  may  judge  of  the  expression  of  my  own  face 
from  the  expression  that  irradiated  the  face  of  my  comrade, 
Mr.  Frost,  I  must  have  been  fairly  beaming  with  surprise, 
delight,  and  half-suppressed  enthusiasm. 

xlfter  luncheon  Mr.  Nesterofski  escorted  us  through  what 
he  called  the  fahrik,  a  six-stamp  quartz  mill,  where  we 
were  shown  the  whole  process  of  quartz  crushing  and  wash- 
ing, the  amalgamation  of  the  gold,  and  the  roasting  of  the 
amalgam  to  get  rid  of  the  mercury.  It  was  substantially 
the  same  process  that  I  had  already  seen  in  California  and 
Nevada.  Gold  is  obtained,  in  the  Berozef  district,  both  from 
quartz  mines  and  from  open  placers ;  and  after  we  had  in- 
spected the  quartz-crushing  machinery  of  the  fabrik,  we 
were  taken,  in  a  sort  of  Irish  jaunting  car  known  as  a 
dalgusJika,  to  one  of  the  nearest  of  the  placer  mines — the 
Andrej^efski  prilsk.  It  was  merely  an  extensive  excavation 
in  the  midst  of  the  forest,  where  150  men  and  women  were 
hard  at  work  shoveling  earth  into  small  one-horse  carts  for 
transportation  to  the  "  machine."  As  fast  as  the  carts  were 
loaded  they  were  driven  up  an  inclined  plane  to  the  top  of 
a  huge  iron  cauldron,  or  churn,  into  which  their  contents 
were  dumped.  In  this  churn  revolved  horizontally  in  differ- 
ent planes  half  a  dozen  sharp  iron  blades,  and  over  the 
blades  fell  continually  a  small  stream  of  water.  The  aurif- 
erous earth,  agitated  incessantly  by  the  revolving  blades 
and  drenched  by  the  falling  water,  was  thoroughly  broken 
up  and  disintegrated,  and  it  finally  made  its  escape,  with  the 
water  in  which  it  was  partially  dissolved,  through  an  open- 
ing at  the  base  of  the  churn.     From  its  place  of  exit  the 


42  SIBERIA 

muddy  stream  ran  down  a  series  of  wooden  flumes  or  sluices, 
in  the  bottoms  of  which  were  pockets  and  transverse  ledges 
to  catch  the  heavier  particles  of  gold  and  the  black  sand 
with  which  the  gold  was  mixed.  After  it  had  passed  through 
these  flumes,  the  stream  was  again  raised,  by  means  of  an  Ar- 
chimedean screw,  to  a  height  of  twenty  or  thirty  feet,  and 
turned  into  another  series  of  sluices,  where  it  finally  parted 
with  its  last  and  lightest  flakes  of  pi-ecious  metal.  From  460 
to  560  tons  of  earth  were  churned  and  washed  in  this  manner 
every  day,  with  a  product  ranging  in  value  from  $235  to  $285, 
the  average  yield  of  the  auriferous  earth  being  about  51  cents 
a  ton.  Mr.  Nesterofski  said  that  he  expected  to  get  three 
puds,  or  about  131  pounds  (troy)  of  gold  out  of  the  Andre- 
yefski  priisk  before  the  end  of  the  working  season.  This 
would  represent  a  value  of  about  $30,000.  The  average 
number  of  men  and  women  employed  in  the  placer  was  150. 
They  worked  from  5  a.m.  to  5  p.m.,  with  from  one  to  two  hours' 
rest  at  noon,  and  their  wages  ranged  from  17  cents  a  day 
for  girls  and  women  to  50  cents  a  day  for  men  that  furnished 
their  own  horses  and  carts.  Out  of  these  wages  they  had  to 
pay  $2  a  hundredweight  for  coarse  wheaten  flour,  5  cents 
a  pound  for  second  quality  meat,  and  about  75  cents  a  hun- 
dredweight for  oats.  Nothing,  of  course,  but  the  direst 
necessity  will  force  a  woman  to  toil  strenuously  in  a  gold 
placer  eleven  hours  a  day  for  a  dollar  and  two  cents  a  week ; 
and  yet  I  saw  many  women,  and  a  number  of  young  girls, 
engaged  in  such  work  and  receiving  such  wages,  in  the  An- 
dreyefski  j9rmA%  The  life  of  men  in  the  Siberian  gold 
placers  is  a  life  of  terrible  hardship,  privation,  and  suffer- 
ing; but  for  the  women  it  must  be  worse  than  penal 
servitude. 

We  did  not  leave  the  priisk  until  late  in  the  afternoon, 
when  the  last  sluice  had  been  "  cleaned  up  "  for  the  night, 
the  last  flake  of  gold  separated  with  a  magnet  from  the  heavy 
"  iron  sand,"  and  a  little  more  than  a  pound  of  gold  dust 
locked  up  in  an  iron  flask  as  the  proceeds  of  500  tons  of 


ACROSS   THE   SIBERIAN    FRONTIER  43 

earth  churned  and  washed  that  day.  We  then  drove  back 
to  Mr.  Nesterofski's  house,  where  we  found  dinner  waiting 
for  us.  It  consisted  of  "  fifteen  drops  "  to  wash  down  a  pre- 
liminary zakuska  or  appetizer  of  rye  bread  and  pickled 
fish ;  then  vegetable  soup  with  little  crescent-shaped  meat 
pies;  spinach  and  mashed  potatoes  served  together  as  a 
course ;  cutlets  of  brains ;  small  birds  on  toast ;  delicious 
charlotte  russe ;  chocolate  cake,  and  macaroons  with  sherry, 
claret,  and  white  Crimean  wine  ad  UUtiim. 

I  thought,  after  the  delicious  and  tastefully  served  lunch 
at  noon,  that  Mr.  Nesterofski  could  hardly  have  any  more 
surprises  in  store  for  us,  but  he  was  not  yet  at  the  end  of 
his  resources.  After  dinner  he  suggested,  in  a  nonchalant, 
matter-of-fact  sort  of  way,  that  we  light  cigarettes  and  take 
our  coffee  out  in  the  garden.  It  did  not  seem  to  me  possible 
that  he  could  have  much  of  a  garden,  on  the  15th  of  June, 
in  latitude  57°  north,  and  in  the  mountains  of  the  Ural ;  but 
I  was  quite  willing,  nevertheless,  to  go  into  the  yard  and  see 
how,  in  that  latitude  and  at  that  season  of  the  year,  he  man- 
aged to  have  lettuce,  radishes,  and  new  potatoes.  We  went 
out  upon  a  broad  piazza  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  and  then 
descended  a  flight  of  steps  into  the  prettiest  and  most  taste- 
fully arranged  garden  that  I  had  seen  in  Russia.  The  wind- 
ing walks  were  neatly  graveled  and  bordered  with  beds 
of  blossoming,  verbena-like  flowers ;  graceful  birches,  with 
snowy  stems  and  drooping,  feathery  foliage,  stood  here  and 
there  in  the  grass  plots,  like  fountains  of  foaming  water 
breaking  aloft  into  light-green,  down-drifting  spray ;  wild 
cherry  trees,  in  full  blossom,  relieved  the  darker  foliage  with 
their  nebulous  masses  of  misty  white ;  while  currant  bushes, 
raspberry  bushes,  and  strawberry  vines,  in  the  outlying  re- 
gion away  from  the  house,  gave  promise  of  an  abundant 
summer  fruitage.  At  the  extreme  end  of  the  yard,  beyond 
the  vegetable  garden,  stood  a  large  conservatory  filled  with 
plants,  flowers,  and  fruits  of  various  kinds,  among  which  were 
dwarf  palms  and  cactuses,  good-sized  oranges  and  lemons. 


44  SIBERIA 

and  half-ripe  pineapples.  Lemons,  oranges,  and  pineapples 
in  the  mountains  of  the  Ural  on  the  threshold  of  Siberia ! 
Could  anything  be  more  out  of  harmony  with  the  impres- 
sions received  from  the  elementary  geographies  of  childhood? 
Mr.  Nesterofski  apologized  for  the  half-ripe  state  of  the 
pineapples,  as  if  it  was  really  a  very  humiliating  and  dis- 
creditable thing,  and  as  if  travelers  from  America  had  every 
right  to  expect,  in  the  mountains  of  Asiatic  Russia,  navel 
oranges  as  big  as  foot-balls,  and  dead-ripe  pineapples  with 
sweet,  spicy  juice  oozing  out  of  every  pore.  We  assured 
him,  however,  that  apologies  were  wholly  unnecessary,  and 
that  if  he  had  shown  us  pine  cones,  instead  of  pineapples, 
our  brightest  anticipations  would  have  been  fully  realized. 

After  inspecting  the  conservatory,  the  vegetable  garden, 
and  the  flower  garden,  we  seated  ourselves  at  a  little  rustic 
table  under  the  trees  near  the  croquet  lawn,  and  were  there 
served  with  fragrant  coffee  and  delicious  cream.  Although 
it  was  half -past  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  the  sun  had  not 
yet  set,  and  it  was  warm  enough  to  sit  out  of  doors  without 
hat  or  wrap.  We  talked,  smoked,  and  sipped  coffee  for  half 
an  hour  or  more,  and  then  Mrs.  Nesterofski  proposed  a  game 
of  croquet.  The  suggestion  was  received  with  acclamation, 
the  wickets  were  set,  and  at  nine  o'clock  at  night  we  began 
knocking  the  balls  around  in  bright  sunshine  and  with  birds 
singing  in  all  parts  of  the  garden.  Mrs.  Nesterofski  and  I 
played  against  her  husband  and  Mr.  Frost ;  and  after  a  hard 
struggle  beat  them,  hands  down,  by  five  wickets.  It  was  a 
highly  entertaining,  if  not  a  strictly  scientific,  game.  Mr.  Frost 
at  that  time  spoke  Russian  very  imperfectly,  using  French 
or  English  words  when  he  could  not  remember  their  Russian 
equivalents  ;  I  myself  was  wholly  out  of  practice ;  neither 
of  us  knew  the  Russian  croquet  rules,  and  our  trilingual 
attempts  to  advise  or  consult  our  partners,  at  critical  stages 
of  the  game,  excited  so  much  merriment  that  we  were  hardly 
able  to  make  a  strike,  to  say  nothing  of  a  carom.  More  than 
once  I  became  so  weak  from  laughter  at  the  kaleidoscopic 


ACROSS   THE   SIBEEIAN   FRONTIER  45 

combinations  of  broken  language  in  Mr.  Frost's  speech  that 
I  had  to  go  away  and  sit  down  under  a  tree  to  recover  my 
breath.  I  have  no  doubt  Mr.  Frost  will  say  that  if  the  mo- 
saic of  my  conversation  did  not  have  as  many  pieces  in  it 
as  his,  it  was  only  because  I  did  not  know  so  many  tongues ; 
and  that,  in  the  touching  and  plaintive  words  of  the  Portu- 
guese grammar,  "It  is  difficult  to  enjoy  well  so  much 
several  languages." 

By  the  time  we  had  finished  our  game  and  refreshed  our- 
selves with  delicately  flavored  caravan  tea  it  was  after  ten 
o'clock,  and  time  to  think  of  getting  back  to  Ekaterin- 
burg. Our  warm-hearted  and  hospitable  host  urged  us  to 
stay  with  him  for  the  rest  of  the  night,  and  return  to  the 
city  some  time  the  next  day ;  but  as  we  intended  to  set  out 
the  next  day  for  the  Siberian  frontier  it  did  not  seem  best 
to  yield  to  the  temptation.  The  horses  were  therefore 
ordered,  and  at  half -past  ten  the  carriage  appeared  at  the 
door.  We  expressed  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Nesterofski,  as  well 
as  we  could  in  Russian,  our  grateful  appreciation  of  their 
cordiality  and  kindness,  thanked  them  for  the  great  plea- 
sure they  had  given  us,  bade  them  good-night  and  good-by, 
and  drove  back  to  Ekaterinburg.  The  streets  of  the  city, 
when  we  entered  it,  were  still  filled  with  the  soft  glow  of 
the  long  northern  twilight ;  but  there  was  not  a  sign  nor 
a  sound  of  life  in  them  save  the  slow,  measured  "  ting !  — 
ting !  —  ting ! "  of  the  triangles  carried  by  the  night  watch- 
men, and  struck,  now  and  then,  as  a  warning  to  "  vagrom  " 
men.  I  had  heard  of  "belling  the  cat,"  but  I  never  saw 
a  practical  illustration  of  it  until  I  came  into  Ekaterin- 
burg that  night,  and  found  a  policeman  with  a  Chimes-of- 
Normandy  attachment  prowling  up  and  down  our  street 
in  search  of  evil-doers.  Of  course  the  wary  evil-doer  fled 
from  the  sound  of  that  watchman's  triangle  as  a  schooner 
in  thick  weather  would  flee  from  the  warning  boom  of  a  fog 
bell,  while  the  innocent  and  the  righteous  drew  near  in 
conscious  rectitude  and  were  promptly  taken  to  the  lock-up. 


46 


SIBERIA 


'^    ■^  J?<  " 


TAU.\-N'rls  AT  A  i'OST    «XAX^U^. 


ACKOSS   THE   SIBERIAN    FRONTIER  47 

We  should  probably  have  shared  the  fate,  as  well  as  the 
characteristics,  of  the  latter  if  we  had  not  found  shelter 
in  our  room  before  the  nearest  policeman  could  get  to  us. 
He  evidently  regarded  us  as  suspicious  characters,  and 
walked  back  and  forth  under  our  window  striking  his  tri- 
angle impressively,  until  we  put  out  our  light. 

At  the  time  when  we  made  our  journey  to  Siberia,  the 
railroad  from  Ekaterinburg,  the  last  Russian  town,  to  Tin- 
men, the  first  Siberian  town,  had  not  been  completed.  There 
was  in  operation,  however,  between  the  two  cities  an  ex- 
cellent horse  express  service,  by  means  of  which  travelers 
were  conveyed  over  the  intervening  two  hundred  miles  of 
country  in  the  comparatively  short  time  of  forty-eight  hours. 
The  route  was  let  by  the  Government  to  a  horse  express  com- 
pany, which  sold  through  tickets,  provided  the  traveler  with 
a  vehicle,  and  carried  him  to  his  destination  with  relays  of 
horses  stationed  along  the  road  at  intervals  of  about  eigh- 
teen miles.  The  vehicle  furnished  for  the  traveler's  use  in 
summer  is  a  large,  heavy,  four-wheeled  carriage  called  a 
tdrantds,  which  consists  of  a  boat-shaped  body  without 
seats,  a  heavy  leathern  top  or  hood,  and  a  curtain  by  which 
the  vehicle  can  be  closed  in  stormy  weather.  The  body  of 
the  tdrantds  is  mounted  upon  two  or  more  long  stout  poles, 
which  unite  the  forward  with  the  rear  axletree,  and  serve 
as  rude  springs  to  break  the  jolting  caused  by  a  rough  road. 
The  traveler  usually  stows  away  his  baggage  in  the  bottom 
of  this  boat-shaped  carriage,  covers  it  with  straw,  rugs,  and 
blankets,  and  reclines  on  it  with  his  back  supported  by  one 
or  more  large,  soft  pillows.  The  driver  sits  sidewise  on  the 
edge  of  the  vehicle  in  front  of  the  passenger  and  drives  with 
four  reins  a  team  of  three  horses  harnessed  abreast.  The 
rate  of  speed  attained  on  a  good  road  is  about  eight  miles 
an  hour. 

On  the  evening  of  June  16,  having  bought  through  tickets, 
selected  a  tdrantds^  and  stowed  away  our  baggage  in  it  as 
skilfully  as  possible,  we  climbed  to  our  uncomfortable  seat 


48 


SIBERIA 


on  Mr.  Frost's  bio-  trunk,  and  gave  the  signal  for  a  start. 
Our  gray-bearded  driver  gathered  up  his  four  reins  of 


A    CAIiAVAN    IIF     rKiaCIlT    WAGONS. 


weather-beaten  rope,  shouted  "Nu  rodniya!"  [Now,  then, 
my  relatives !]  and  with  a  measured  jangle,  jangle,  jangle, 
of  two  large  bells  lashed  to  the  arch  over  the  shaft-horse's 
back  we  rode  away  through  the  wide  unpaved  streets  of 


ACROSS   THE   SIBERIAN    FRONTIER  49 

Ekaterinburg,  across  a  spacious  parade-ground  in  front  of 
the  soldiers'  barracks,  out  between  two  square  white  pillars 
surmounted  by  double-headed  eagles,  and  then  into  a  dark, 
gloomy  forest  of  pines  and  firs. 

When  we  had  passed  through  the  gate  of  Ekaterinburg, 
we  were  on  the  "great  Siberian  road" — an  imperial  high- 
way which  extends  from  the  mountains  of  the  Ural  to  the 
head- waters  of  the  Amur  River,  a  distance  of  more  than  three 
thousand  miles.  If  we  had  ever  supposed  Siberia  to  be  an 
unproductive  arctic  waste,  we  soon  should  have  been  made 
aware  of  our  error  by  the  long  lines  of  loaded  wagons  which 
we  met  coming  into  Ekaterinburg  from  the  Siberian  frontier. 
These  transport  wagons,  or  oho^es,  form  a  characteristic 
feature  of  almost  every  landscape  on  the  great  Siberian  road 
from  the  Ural  mountains  to  Tinmen.  They  are  small  four- 
wheeled,  one-horse  vehicles,  rude  and  heavy  in  construction, 
piled  high  with  Siberian  products,  and  covered  with  coarse 
matting  securely  held  in  place  by  large  woodien  pins.  Every 
horse  is  fastened  by  a  long  halter  to  the  preceding  wagon, 
so  that  a  train  of  fifty  or  a  hundred  ohozes  forms  one  un- 
broken caravan  from  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  half  a  mile  in 
length.  We  passed  five  hundred  and  thirty-eight  of  these 
loaded  wagons  in  less  than  two  hours,  and  I  counted  one 
thousand  four  hundred  and  forty-five  in  the  course  of  our 
first  day's  journey.  No  further  evidence  was  needed  of  the 
fact  that  Siberia  is  not  a  land  of  desolation.  Commercial 
products  at  the  rate  of  one  thousand  five  hundred  tons  a 
day  do  not  come  from  a  barren,  arctic  waste. 

As  it  gradually  grew  dark  towards  midnight,  these  cara- 
vans began  to  stop  for  rest  and  refreshment  by  the  roadside, 
and  every  mile  or  two  we  came  upon  a  pictui-esque  bivouac 
on  the  edge  of  the  forest,  where  a  dozen  or  more  obo^  dri- 
vers, were  gathered  around  a  cheerful  camp-fire  in  the  midst 
of  their  wagons,  while  their  liberated  but  hoppled  horses 
grazed  and  jumped  awkwardly  here  and  there  along  the 
road  or  among  the  trees.  The  gloomy  evergreen  forest, 
4 


50  SIBERIA 

lighted  up  from  beneath  by  the  flickering  blaze  and  faintly 
tinged  above  by  the  glow  of  the  northern  twilight,  the  red 
and  black  Rembrandt  outlines  of  the  wagons,  and  the  group 
of  men  in  long  laftdus  and  scarlet  or  blue  shirts  gathered 
about  the  camp-fire  drinking  tea,  formed  a  strange,  strik- 
ing, and  peculiarly  Eussian  picture. 

We  traveled  without  stop  throughout  the  niglit,  changing 
horses  at  every  post  station,  antl  making  about  eight  miles 
an  hour  over  a  fairly  good  road.  The  sun  did  not  set  until 
half-past  nine  and  rose  again  at  half-past  two,  so  that  it 
was  not  at  any  time  very  dark.  The  villages  through 
which  we  passed  were  sometimes  of  great  extent,  but  con- 
sisted almost  invariably  of  only  two  lines  of  log-houses 
standing  with  their  gables  to  the  road,  and  separated  one 
from  another  by  inclosed  yards  without  a  sign  anywhere 
of  vegetation  or  trees.  One  of  these  villages  formed  a  double 
row  five  miles  in  length  of  separate  houses,  all  fronting  on 
the  Tsar's  highway.  Around  every  village  there  was  an 
inclosed  area  of  pasture-land,  varying  in  extent  from  two 
hundred  to  five  hundred  acres,  within  which  were  kept  the 
inhabitants'  cattle;  and  at  the  point  where  the  inclosing 
fence  crossed  the  road,  on  each  side  of  the  village,  there 
were  a  gate  and  a  gate-keeper's  hut.  These  village  gate- 
keepers are  almost  always  old  and  broken-down  men,  and 
in  Siberia  they  are  generally  criminal  exiles.  It  is  their 
duty  to  see  that  none  of  the  village  cattle  stray  out  of  the 
inclosure,  and  to  open  the  gates  for  passing  vehicles  at  all 
hours  of  the  day  and  night.  From  the  village  commune 
they  receive  for  their  services  a  mere  pittance  of  three  or 
four  roubles  a  month,  and  live  in  a  wretched  hovel  made 
of  boughs  and  earth,  which  throughout  the  year  is  warmed, 
lighted,  and  filled  with  smoke  by  an  open  fire  on  the  ground. 

On  the  second  day  after  our  departure  from  Ekaterin- 
burg, as  we  were  passing  through  a  rather  open  forest 
between  the  villages  of  Markova  and  Tugulimskaya,  our 
driver  suddenly  pulled  up  his  horses,  and  turning  to  us 


ACROSS   THE   SIBERIAN   FRONTIER 


51 


said,  "  Vot  granitsa  "  [tLere  is  the  boundary].     We  sprang 
out  of  the  tdrantds  and  saw,  standing  by  the  roadside,  a 


UIVODAC    OF    FREIGHT  WAddN     lil:i\l.K- 


square  pillar  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  height,  of  stuccoed  or 
plastered  brick,  bearing  on  one  side  the  coat-of-arms  of  the 
European  province  of  Perm,  and  on  the  other  that  of  the 


52  SIBERIA 

Asiatic  province  of  Tobolsk.  It  was  the  boundary  post  of 
Siberia.  No  other  spot  between  St.  Petersburg  and  the 
Pacific  is  more  full  of  painful  suggestions,  and  none  has 
for  the  traveler  a  more  melancholy  interest  than  the  little 
opening  in  the  forest  where  stands  this  grief-consecrated 
pillar.     Here  hundreds  of  thousands  of  exiled  human  beings 

—  men,  women,  and  children ;  princes,  nobles,  and  peasants 

—  have  l)idden  good-by  forever  to  friends,  country,  and 
home.  Here,  standing  beside  the  square  white  boundary 
post,  they  have,  for  the  last  time,  looked  backward  with 
love  and  grief  at  their  native  land,  and  then,  with  tear- 
blurred  eyes  and  heavy  hearts,  they  have  marched  away 
into  Siberia  to  meet  the  unknown  hardships  and  privations 
of  a  new  life. 

No  other  boundary  post  in  the  world  has  witnessed  so 
much  human  suffering,  or  been  passed  by  such  a  multitude 
of  heart-broken  people.  More  than  170,000  exiles  have  trav- 
eled this  road  since  1878,  and  more  than  half  a  million  since 
the  beginning  of  the  present  century.  In  former  years, 
when  exiles  were  compelled  to  walk  from  the  places  of  their 
arrest  to  the  places  of  their  banishment,  they  reached  the 
Siberian  boundary  post  only  after  months  of  toilsome 
marching  along  muddy  or  dusty  roads,  over  forest-clad 
mountains,  through  rain-storms  or  snow-storms,  or  in  bitter 
cold.  As  the  boundary  post  is  situated  about  half-way 
between  the  last  European  and  the  first  Siberian  etape^  it 
has  always  been  customary  to  allow  exile  parties  to  stop 
here  for  rest  and  for  a  last  good-by  to  home  and  country. 
The  Russian  peasant,  even  when  a  criminal,  is  deeply  at- 
tached to  his  native  land;  and  heart-rending  scenes  have 
been  witnessed  around  the  boundary  pillar  when  such  a 
party,  overtaken,  perhaps,  by  frost  and  snow  in  the  early 
autumn,  stopped  here  for  a  last  farewell.  Some  gave  way 
to  unrestrained  grief ;  some  comforted  the  weeping ;  some 
knelt  and  pressed  their  faces  to  the  loved  soil  of  their  native 
country,  and  collected  a  little  earth  to  take  with  them  into 


ACEOSS   THE    SIBERIAN   FRONTIER 


53 


Tin-.  - '  \  • 


54 


SIBERIA 


exile ;  and  a  few  pressed  their  lips  to  the  European  side  of 
the  cold  brick  pillar,  as  if  kissing  good-by  forever  to  all  that 
it  symbolized. 

At  last  the  stern  order  "  Stroisa ! "  [Form  ranks  !  ]  from 
the  under  officer  of  the  convoy  put  an  end  to  the  rest 
and  leave-taking,  and  at  the  word  "March!"  the  gray- 
coated  troop  of  exiles  and  convicts  crossed  themselves 
hastily  all  together,  and,  with  a  confused  jingling  of  chains 
and  leg-fetters,  moved  slowly  away  past  the  boundary  post 
into  Siberia. 

Until  recently  the  Siberian  boundary  post  was  covered 
with  brief  inscriptions,  good-bys,  and  the  names  of  exiles 
scratched  or  penciled  on  the  hard  cement  with  which,  the 
pillar  was  originally  overlaid.  At  the  time  of  our  visit, 
however,  most  of  this  hard  plaster  had  apparently  been 
pounded  off,  and  only  a  few  words,  names,  and  initials 
remained.  Many  of  the  inscriptions,  although  brief,  were 
significant  and  touching.  In  one  j^lace,  in  a  man's  hand, 
had  been  written  the  words  "  Prashchai  Marya ! "  [Good- 
by,  Mary !  ]  Who  the  writer  was,  who  Mary  was,  there 
is  nothing  now  left  to  show ;  but  it  may  be  that  to  the  exile 
who  scratched  this  last  farewell  on  the  boundary  pillar 
"  Mary "  was  all  the  world,  and  that  in  crossing  the  Sibe- 
rian line  the  writer  was  leaving  behind  him  forever,  not  only 
home  and  country,  but  love. 

After  picking  a  few  flowers  from  the  gi-ass  at  the  base  of 
the  boundary  pillar,  we  climbed  into  our  carriage,  said 
"Good-by"  to  Europe,  as  hundreds  of  thousands  had  said 
good-by  before  us,  and  rode  away  into  Siberia. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  FLOWERY  PLAINS  OF  TOBOLSK 

IN  crossing  the  boundary  line  between  the  provinces  of 
Perm  and  Tobolsk,  we  entered  a  part  of  the  Russian 
empire  whose  magnitude  and  importance  are  almost  every- 
where underestimated.  People  generally  seem  to  have  the 
impression  that  Siberia  is  a  sub-arctic  colonial  province 
about  as  large  as  Alaska ;  that  it  is  everywhere  cold, 
barren,  and  covered  during  the  greater  part  of  the  year 
with  snow;  and  that  its  sparse  population  is  composed 
chiefly  of  exiles  and  half-wild  aborigines,  with  a  few  sol- 
diers and  Government  officials  here  and  there  to  guard 
and  superintend  the  ostrofjs,  the  prisons,  and  the  mines. 
Very  few  Americans,  if  I  may  judge  from  the  questions 
asked  me,  fully  gTasp  and  appreciate  the  fact  that  Siberia 
is  virtually  a  continent  in  itself,  and  presents  continental 
diversities  of  climate,  scenery,  and  vegetation.  We  are 
apt,  unconsciously,  to  assume  that  because  a  country  is 
generally  mapped  upon  a  small  scale  it  must  necessarily  oc- 
cupy only  a  small  part  of  the  surface  of  the  globe ;  but  the 
conclusion  does  not  follow  from  the  premises.  If  a  geog- 
rapher were  preparing  a  general  atlas  of  the  world,  and 
should  use,  in  drawing  Siberia,  the  same  scale  that  is  used 
in  Stieler's  "  Hand  Atlas "  for  England,  he  would  have  to 
make  the  Siberian  page  of  his  book  nearly  twenty  feet  in 
width  to  accommodate  his  map.  If  he  should  use  for  Si- 
beria the  scale  adopted  by  Colton,  in  his  "Atlas  of  the 


56  SIBERIA 

United  States,"  for  New  Jersey,  he  would  have  to  increase 
the  width  of  his  page  to  fifty-six  feet.  If  he  shoidd  deline- 
ate Siberia  upon  the  scale  of  the  British  ordnance  survey 
maps  of  England  (the  "six-inch  maps")  he  would  be  com- 
pelled to  provide  himself  with  a  sheet  of  paper  2100  feet 
wide,  and  his  atlas,  if  laid  out  open,  would  cover  the  whole 
lower  part  of  New  York  City  from  the  Battery  to  Wall  street. 
These  illustrations  are  sufficient  to  show  that  if  Siberia  were 
charted  upon  a  scale  corresponding  with  that  employed  in 
mapping  other  countries,  its  enormous  geographical  extent 
would  be  much  more  readily  apprehended,  and  would  appeal 
much  more  strongly  to  the  imagination. 

Siberia  extends  in  its  extreme  dimensions  from  latitude 
40.17  (the  southern  boundary  of  Semirechinsk)  to  latitude 
77.46  (Cape  Cheliuskin),  and  from  longitude  60  east  (the 
Urals)  to  longitude  190  west  (Bering  strait).  It  there- 
fore has  an  extreme  range  of  about  37  degrees,  or  2500 
miles,  in  latitude,  and  130  degrees,  or  5000  miles,  in  longi- 
tude. Even  these  bare  statistics  give  one  an  impression 
of  vast  geographical  extent;  but  their  significance  may 
be  emphasized  by  means  of  a  simple  illustration.  If  it 
were  possible  to  move  entire  countries  from  one  part  of 
the  globe  to  another,  you  could  take  the  whole  United 
States  of  America  from  Maine  to  California  and  from 
Lake  Superior  to  the  (rulf  of  Mexico,  and  set  it  down 
in  the  middle  of  Siberia,  without  touching  anywhere  the 
boundaries  of  the  latter  territory.  You  could  then  take 
Alaska  and  all  the  States  of  Europe,  with  the  single 
exception  of  Russia,  and  fit  them  into  the  remaining 
margin  hke  the  pieces  of  a  dissected  map ;  and  after 
having  thus  accommodated  all  of  the  United  States,  in- 
cluding Alaska,  and  all  of  Europe,  except  Russia,  you 
would  still  have  more  than  300,000  square  miles  of  Siberian 
territory  to  spare  —  or,  in  other  words,  you  would  still 
leave  unoccupied  in  Siberia  an  area  half  as  large  again  as 


THE   FLOWERY   PLAINS   OF   TOBOLSK  57 

the  empire  of  Germany.^  The  single  province  of  Tobolsk, 
which  in  comparison  with  the  other  Siberian  provinces 
ranks  only  fourth  in  point  of  size,  exceeds  in  area  all  of 
our  northern  States  from  Maine  to  Iowa  taken  together. 
The  province  of  Yeniseisk  is  larger  than  all  of  the'  United 
States  east  of  the  Mississippi  River  and  the  territory  of 
Yakutsk  is  thirteen  times  as  large  as  Great  Britain,  thirty- 
four  times  as  large  as  the  State  of  Pennsylvania,  and 
might  be  divided  into  a  hundred  and  eighty-eight  such 
States  as  Massachusetts ;  and  yet  Yakutsk  is  only  one  of 
eleven  Siberian  colonies. 

A  country  of  such  vast  extent  must  necessarily  include 
all  varieties  of  topography  and  scenery,  and  all  sorts  of 
climate.  -Disregarding  for  the  present  local  and  partial  ex- 
ceptions, taking  climate  and  topography  together  and  begin- 
ning at  the  arctic  ocean,  Siberia  may  be  roughly  divided 
into  three  broad  east-and-west  zones,  or  belts  of  country. 

ICOMPAEATIVE  AREAS. 

Siberia.  Square  Miles.        Europe.  Square  Miles. 

Tobolsk .570,290  France 204,177 

Tomsk   333,542  Germany 211,196 

Steppe  territories 560,324  Great  Britain 120,832 

Yeniseisk 992,874  Greece 25,014 

Irkutsk 309,191  Italy 110,620 

Yakutsk 1,517,132  Montenegro   3,630 

Trans-Baikal 240,781  Netherlands 12,648 

Amur  region 239,471  Portugal '. 32,528 

Maritime  territories 730,024  Roumania 48,307 

^      ,  ,  , „^     Servia 18,750 

Total 5,493,629    g^^^^ ^^^^^^^ 

Am.  and  Europe.  Square  Miles.     Sweden 170,979 

Norway 123,205 

U.  S.  and  Alaska 3,501 ,404     Switzerland  15,892 

Austria-Hungary 240,942     Eiiropean  Turkey 125,289 

Belgium 11 ,373  

Denmark   14,124        Total 5,184,109 

Siberian  provinces  5,493,629 

The  United  States,  Alaska,  and  Europe 5,184,109 

Difference  in  favor  of  Siberia 309,520 


58  SIBERIA 

They  are  as  follows  :  1.  The  great  northern  tundra  or 
the  treeless  region  of  moss  steppes,  extending  along  the 
whole  arctic  sea-coast  from  Novaya  Zemlaya  to  Bering 
strait.  2.  The  forest  region,  which,  with  occasional  breaks, 
occupies  a  wide  belt  through  the  middle  of  the  country 
from  the  Ural  mountains  to  the  Okhotsk  sea.  3.  The  fer- 
tile and  arable  region  which  lies  along  the  Central  Asiatic 
and  Mongolian  frontier,  and  extends  from  Ekaterinburg 
and  Orenburg  to  the  coast  of  the  Pacific.  The  northern 
and  southern  boundaries  of  these  great  transcontinental 
belts  of  country  cannot  be  exactly  defined,  because  they 
are  more  or  less  irregular.  In  some  places,  as  for  example 
in  the  valleys  of  the  great  rivers,  the  central  forests  make 
deep  indentations  into  the  barren  region  that  lies  north  of 
them ;  while  in  others  the  northern  steppes  break  through 
the  central  forests  and  even  encroach  upon  the  beautiful 
and  fertile  region  along  the  southern  frontier.  Generally 
speaking,  however,  the  imaginary  zones  or  belts  into  which 
I  have  for  convenience  divided  Siberia  correspond  with 
actual  physical  features  of  the  country. 

I  will  now  take  up  these  zones  of  climate  and  topography 
separately  and  sketch  hastily  the  character  of  each.  1.  The 
great  northern  tundra.  The  northern  coast  of  Siberia,  be- 
tween the  southern  extremity  of  Novaya  Zemlaya  and 
Bering  strait,  is  probably  the  most  barren  and  inhospitable 
part  of  the  whole  Russian  empire.  For  hundreds  of  miles 
back  from  the  arctic  ocean  the  country  consists  almost  en- 
tirely of  great  desolate  steppes,  known  to  the  Russians  as 
tundras^  which  in  summer  are  almost  impassable  wastes  of 
brownish-gray,  arctic  moss,  saturated  with  water,  and  in 
winter  trackless  deserts  of  snow,  di'ifted  and  packed  by 
polar  gales  into  long,  hard,  fluted  waves.  The  Siberian 
tundra  differs  in  many  essential  particulars  from  all  other 
treeless  plains.  In  the  first  place,  it  has  a  foundation  of 
permanently  frozen  ground.  Underlying  the  great  moss 
tundras  that  border  the  Lena  river  north  of  Yakutsk  there 


THE   FLOWERY   PLAINS   OF   TOBOLSK  59 

is  everywhere  a  thick  stratum  of  eternal  frost,  beginning 
in  winter  at  the  surface  of  the  ground,  and  in  summer  at  a 
point  twenty  or  thirty  inches  below  the  surface,  and  extend- 
ing in  places  to  a  depth  of  many  hundred  feet.  What 
scanty  vegetation,  therefore,  the  tundra  affords  roots  itself 
and  finds  its  nourishment  in  a  thin  layer  of  unfrozen  ground 
—  a  mere  veneering  of  arable  soil — resting  upon  a  sub- 
stratum of  permanent  ice.  This  foundation  of  ice  is  im- 
pervious, of  course,  to  water,  and  as  the  snow  melts  in 
summer  the  water  completely  saturates  the  soil  to  as  great  a 
depth  as  it  can  penetrate,  and,  with  the  continuous  daylight 
of  June  and  July,  stimulates  a  dense  growth  of  gi'ay,  arctic 
moss.  This  moss,  in  course  of  time,  covers  the  entire  plain 
with  a  soft,  yielding  cushion,  in  which  a  pedestrian  will  sink 
to  the  knee  without  finding  any  solid  footing.  Moss  has 
grown  out  of  decaying  moss,  year  after  year,  and  decade 
after  decade,  until  the  whole  tundra^  for  thousands  of  square 
miles,  is  ope  vast,  spongy  bog.  Of  other  vegetation  there 
is  little  or  none.  A  clump  of  dwarf  berry-bushes,  an  oc- 
casional tuft  of  coarse,  swamp  grass,  or  a  patch  of  storm- 
and-cold-defying  hedrovnik  [Pinus  cemhra]  diversifies  per- 
haps, here  and  there,  the  vast,  brownish-gray  expanse ;  but, 
generally  speaking,  the  eye  may  sweep  the  whole  circle  of 
the  horizon  and  see  nothing  but  the  sky  and  moss. 

An  observer  who  could  look  out  upon  this  region  in  win- 
ter from  the  car  of  a  balloon  would  suppose  himself  to  be 
looking  out  upon  a  great  frozen  ocean.  Far  or  near,  he 
would  see  nothing  to  suggest  the  idea  of  land  except,  per- 
haps, the  white  silhouette  of  a  barren  mountain  range  in 
the  distance,  or  a  dark,  sinuous  line  of  dwarf  berry-bushes 
and  trailing  pine,  stretching  across  the  snowy  waste  from 
horizon  to  horizon,  and  marking  the  course  of  a  frozen 
arctic  river.  At  all  seasons,  and  under  all  circumstances, 
this  immense  border  land  of  moss  tundras  is  a  land  of  des- 
olation. In  summer,  its  covering  of  water-soaked  moss 
struggles  into  Ufe,  only  to  be  lashe^  at  intervals  by  pitiless 


60  SIBEKIA 

whips  of  icy  rain  until  it  is  a<;ain  bui'ied  in  snow ;  and  in 
winter,  fierce  gales,  known  to  the  Knssiaus  as  pilrgas,  sweep 
across  it  from  the  arctic  ocean  and  score  its  snowy  surface 
into  long,  hard,  polished  grooves  called  zastrwji.  Through- 
out the  entire  winter,  it  presents  a  picture  of  inexpressible 
dreariness  and  desolation.  Even  at  noon,  when  the  sea- 
like expanse  of  storm-drifted  snow  is  flushed  faintly  by 
the  red,  gloomy  light  of  the  low-hanging  sun,  it  depresses 
the  spirits  and  chills  the  imagination  with  its  suggestions 
of  infinite  dreariness  and  solitude ;  but  at  night,  when  it 
ceases  to  be  bounded  even  by  the  horizon  because  the  hori- 
zon can  no  longer  be  distinguished,  when  the  pale,  green 
streamers  of  the  aurora  begin  to  sweep  back  and  forth 
over  a  dark  segment  of  a  circle  in  the  north,  lighting  up 
the  whole  white  world  with  transitory  flashes  of  ghostly 
radiance,  and  adding  mystery  to  darkness  and  solitude, 
then  the  Siberian  tundra  not  only  becomes  inexpressibly 
lonely  and  desolate,  but  takes  on  a  strange,  half  terrible 
uuearthliness,  which  awes  and  yet  fascinates  the  imagi- 
nation. 

The  climate  of  this  great  northern  tundra  is  the  severest  in 
the  Russian  empire,  if  not  the  severest  in  the  known  world. 
As  you  go  eastward  from  the  Ural  mountains  through  this 
barren  zone,  the  mean  annual  temperature  gradually  de- 
creases; until,  shortly  after  crossing  the  river  Lena,  you 
reach,  in  latitude  67.34,  on  the  border  of  the  great  tundra, 
a  lonely  Yakut  settlement  called  Verkhoyansk,  or  the  up- 
per settlement  of  the  Yana,  a  village  that  is  known  through- 
out Siberia,  and  is  beginning  to  be  known  throughout  the 
world,  as  the  Asiatic  pole  of  cold.  The  fact  is  familiar  to 
most  readers  that  the  magnetic  pole,  and  probably  the  pole 
of  greatest  cold,  do  not  coincide  with  the  geographical  pole. 
There  are  two  points  in  the  northern  hemisphere,  one  in 
the  American  arctic  archipelago  and  one  in  northeastern 
Siberia,  where  the  cold  is  more  severe  than  in  any  region 
lying  farther  north  that  has  yet  been  explored.     The  Sibe- 


THE   FLOWEKY   PLAINS   OF   TOBOLSK  61 

riau  pole  of  cold  is  at  or  near  Verkhoyansk.  A  long  series 
of  Russian  observations  made  at  this  settlement  shows  the 
following  mean  temperatures :  For  the  whole  year,  four 
degrees  above  zero  Fahr. ;  mean  temperature  for  December, 
46  degrees  below  ;  for  January,  55  degrees  below ;  for  Feb- 
ruary, 54  degrees  below ;  or  an  average  temperature  of  51 
degrees  below  zero  for  the  three  winter  months.  In  1869, 
the  thermometer  at  Verkhoyansk  went  repeatedly  below 
— 70  degrees,  and  fell  once  to  — 81  degrees  Fahr.^ 

Immediately  south  of  the  great  northern  tundra,  and  ex- 
tending, with  occasional  breaks,  from  the  Ural  mountains 
to  the  Okhotsk  sea,  lies  the  second  of  the  three  zones  into 
which  I  have  provisionally  divided  Siberia — the  zone  of 
forests.  As  you  go  southward  from  the  arctic  ocean  and  get 
gradually  into  a  less  rigorous  climate,  trees  begin  to  make 
their  appearance.  At  first  there  are  only  a  few  stunted  and 
storm-twisted  larches  struggling  for  existence  on  the  edge 
of  the  tundra;  but  they  gradually  grow  larger  and  more 
abundant,  pines  and  firs  make  their  appearance,  then  birch, 
willow,  and  poplar,  until  at  last  you  enter  a  vast  primeval 
forest,  through  which  you  may  travel  in  a  straight  line  for 
weeks  together.  This  zone  of  forests  has  an  area  of  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  square  miles,  and  stretches  almost 
entirely  across  Siberia.  Along  its  northern  boundary  the 
climate,  although  less  rigorous  than  the  climate  of  the  tiin- 
dra,  is  still  severe;  but  long  before  you  get  through  to  its 
southern  edge,  the  temperature  grows  milder,  poplars, 
aspens,  elms,  and  the  Tatar  maple  take  the  places  of  firs, 

1  The  record  is  given  by  the  eminent  —  87°  ;  and  a  previous  record  of  —  82° 

Eussian    meteorologist    I)r.   Woeikof ,  may  be  found  in  the  Irkutsk  newspaper 

who  vouches  for  the   trustworthiness  SiUr  for    September   18,   1883.      The 

of  the  observations,  and  an  account  of  best  of  thermometers,  however,  at  tem- 

them  may  be  found  in  the  English  sei-  perature  lower  than  —  60°  are  very  in- 

entific  journal.  Nature,  for  March  10,  accurate ;  and  these  obsei-vations  are 

1881.     Dr.    Biiuge,    who   has   recently  to  be  taken  with  proper  allowance  for 

returned   from    an   expedition  to   the  instrumental    error.      But,  even  with 

coast    of    the    arctic    ocean    and   the  such  allowance,  they  show  that  Verk- 

New  Siberian  islands,  reports  a  mini-  hqyansk  is  probably  the  coldest  place 

mum  temperature  at  Verkhoyansk  of  on  the  globe. 


62  SIBERIA 

lavelies,  and  pines,  and  you  come  out  at  last  into  the  more 
open,  fertile,  and  arable  zone  of   southern  Siberia.     This 
beautiful  and  picturesque  country  presents,  at  least  in  sum- 
mer, notliini»-  that  would  even  remotely  suggest  an  arctic 
region.    The  soil  is  a  rich,  black  loam,  as  fertile  as  the  soil  of 
an  English  garden;  flowers  grow  everywhere  in  the  greatest 
profusion ;  the  woods  are  full  of  rhododendron,  wild  cherry, 
and  flowering  acacia ;  the  country  is  neither  all  plain  nor 
all  forest,  but  a  blending  of  both ;  it  is  broken  just  enough 
by  hills  and  mountains  to  give  picturesqueness  to  the  land- 
scape ;  and  during  half  the  year  it  is  fairly  saturated  with 
golden  sunshine.     I  do  not  wish,  of  course,  to  convey  the 
idea  that  in  this  country  it  is  always  summer.     Southern 
Siberia  has  a  winter  and  a  severe  one,  but  not,  as  a  rule, 
much  severer  than  that  of  Minnesota,  while  its  summer  is 
warmer  and  more  genial  than  that  of  many  parts  of  central 
Europe.     A  glance  at  the  map  is  sufficient  to  show  that  a 
considerable  part  of  Western  Siberia  lies  farther  south  than 
Nice,  Venice,  or  Milan ;  and  that  the  southern  part  of  the 
Siberian  territory  of  Semirechinsk  is  nearer  the  equator 
than  Naples.     In  a  country  that  stretches  from  the  latitude 
of  Italy  to  the  latitude  of  central  Greenland,  one  would  nat- 
urally expect  to  find,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  one  does  find, 
many  varieties  of  climate  and  scenery.     On  the  Taimir 
peninsula,  east  of  the  gulf  of  Ob,  the  permanently  frozen 
ground  thaws  out  in  summer  to  a  depth  of  only  a  few 
inches,  and  supports  only  a  scanty  vegetation  of  berry- 
bushes  and  moss ;   while  in  the  southern  part  of  Western 
Siberia  water-melons  and  cantaloupes  are  a  profitable  crop ; 
tobacco  is  grown  upon  thousands  of  plantations ;  and  the 
peasants  harvest  annually  more  than  50,000,000  bushels  of 
grain.    In  the  fertile  and  arable  zone  of  southern  Siberia 
there  are  a  dozen  towns  that  have  a  higher  mean  tempera- 
ture for  the  months  of  June,  July,  and  August  than  the  city 
of  London.     In  fact,  the  summer  temperature  of  this  whole 
belt  of  country,  from  the  Urals  to  the  Pacific,  averages  six 


THE   FLOWERY   PLAINS   OF   TOBOLSK  63 

degi'ees  higher  than  the  mean  summer  temperature  of 
England.  Irkutsk  is  five  degrees  warmer  in  summer  than 
Dubhn;  Tobolsk  is  tour  degi-ees  warmer  than  London; 
Semipalatinsk  exactly  corresponds  in  temperature  with 
Boston;  and  Vierni  has  as  hot  a  summer  as  Chicago/ 
To  the  traveler  who  crosses  the  Urals  for  the  first  time  in 
June  nothing  is  more  surprising  than  the  fervent  heat  of 
Siberian  sunshine  and  the  extraordinary  beauty  and  pro- 
fusion of  Siberian  flowers.  Although  we  had  been  partly 
prepared,  by  our  voyage  up  the  Kama,  for  the  experience 
that  awaited  us  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains,  we  were 
fairly  astonished,  upon  the  threshold  of  Western  Siberia, 
by  the  scenery,  the  weather,  and  the  flora.  In  the  fertile, 
blossoming  country  presented  to  us  as  we  rode  swiftly  east- 
ward into  the  province  of  Tobolsk  there  was  absolutely 
nothing  even  remotely  to  suggest  an  arctic  region.  If  we 
had  been  blindfolded  and  transported  to  it  suddenly  in  the 
middle  of  a  sunny  afternoon,  we  could  never  have  guessed 
to  what  part  of  the  world  we  had  been  taken.  The  sky  was 
as  clear  and  blue  and  the  air  as  soft  as  the  sky  and  air  of 
California ;  the  trees  were  all  in  full  leaf ;  birds  were  sing- 
ing over  the  flowery  meadows  and  in  the  clumps  of  birches 
by  the  roadside ;  there  were  a  drowsy  hum  of  bees  and  a 
faint  fragrance  of  flowers  and  verdure  in  the  air ;  and  the 

1  COMPARATIVE  SUMMER  TEMPERATURES. 

Siberia.                                      Fahr.  America  and  Europe.                    Fahr. 

Vi^mi 70.7    Chicago,  HI 71.3 

Blagoveshchensk 68.6    Buffalo,  N.  Y 69.0 

Semipalatinsk 68.2     Milwaukee,  Wis 68.6 

Khabarofka 67.3    Boston,  Mass. 68.2 

Vladivostok   65.6    Portland,  Me 66.6 

Akmolinsk 65.1     Moscow,  European  Russia 65.0 

Omsk 65.1     St.  Petersburg    61.0 

Barnaul   63.7    London,  England     60.0 

Krasnoydrsk 63.0    Dublin,  Ireland 57.0 

Tobolsk 62.4 

Tomsk 62.2  Mean  summer  temperature  of  12 

Irkutsk 61.5      '  Siberian  cities  and  towns   65.3 

Mean  summer  temperature   in  9 
American  and  European  cities.   .65.2 


6J:  SIBEKIA 

sunshine  was  as  warm  and  bright  as  that  of  a  June  after- 
noon in  the  most  favored  part  of  the  temperate  zone. 

The  eonntry  through  which  we  passed  between  the  post 
stations  of  Cheremishkaya  and  Sugatskaya  was  a  rich,  open, 
farming  region,  resembling  somewhat  that  part  of  western 
New  York  which  Hes  between  Rochester  and  Buffalo.  There 
were  no  extensive  forests,  but  the  gently  rolling  plain  was 
diversified  here  and  there  by  small  patches  of  woodland,  or 
groves  of  birch  and  poplar,  and  was  sometimes  cultivated 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  Extensive  stretches  of  grow- 
ing wheat  and  rye  alternated  with  wide  fields  of  black 
plowed  land  not  yet  sown,  and  occasionally  we  crossed  great 
expanses  of  prairie,  whose  velvety  greensward  was  sprin- 
kled with  dandelions,  buttercups,  and  primroses,  and  dotted 
in  the  distance  with  grazing  cattle  and  sheep.  Sometimes, 
for  miles  together,  the  road  ran  through  unfenced  but  cul- 
tivated land  where  men  and  women  in  bright-colored  dresses 
were  plowing,  harrowing,  or  weeding  young  grain ;  some- 
times we  plunged  into  a  dense  cool  forest,  from  the  depths 
of  which  we  could  hear  the  soft  notes  of  shy  cuckoos,  and 
then  we  came  out  into  a  great  sea  of  meadow  blue  with 
forget-me-nots,  where  field  sparrows  and  warblers  were 
filling  all  the  air  with  joyous  melody.  Flowers  met  the  eye 
everywhere  in  great  variety  and  in  almost  incredible  pro- 
fusion. Never  had  we  seen  the  earth  so  carpeted  with  them, 
even  in  Cahfornia.  The  roadside  was  bright  with  wild  roses, 
violets,  buttercups,  primroses,  marsh-marigolds,  yellow 
peas,  iris,  and  Tatar  honeysuckles ;  the  woods  were  whit- 
ened here  and  there  by  soft  clouds  of  wild-cherry  blossoms, 
and  the  meadows  were  literally  great  floral  seas  of  color. 
In  some  places  the  beautiful  rose-like  flowers  of  the  golden 
trollius  covered  hundreds  of  acres  with  an  almost  unbroken 
sheet  of  vivid  yellow;  while  a  few  miles  farther  on,  the 
steppe,  to  the  very  horizon,  was  a  blue  ocemr  of  forget- 
me-nots.  I  do  not  mean  simply  that  the  groun<J  was  sprinkled 
with  them,  nor  merely  that  they  grew  in  great  abundance ; 


THE   FLOWERY   PLAINS    OF   TOBOLSK  G5 

I  mean  that  the  grass  everywhere  was  completely  hidden  by 
them,  so  that  the  plain  looked  as  if  a  sheet  of  blue  gauze 
had  been  thrown  over  it,  or  as  if  it  were  a  gi'eat  expanse  of 
tranquil  water  reflecting  a  pale-blue  sky.  More  than  once 
these  forget-me-not  plains,  when  seen  afar,  resembled  water 
so  closely  as  to  deceive  us  both. 

Throughout  the  whole  distance  from  Ekaterinbm'g  to  Tin- 
men, wherever  the  country  was  open,  the  road  was  bordered 
on  each  side  by  a  double  or  triple  row  of  magnificent  silver- 
birches,  seventy  or  eighty  feet  in  height,  set  so  closely  to- 
gether that  their  branches  interlocked  both  along  the  road 
and  over  it,  and  completely  shut  out,  with  an  arched  canopy 
of  leaves,  the  vertical  rays  of  the  sun.  For  miles  at  a  time 
we  rode,  between  solid  banks  of  flowers,  through  this  beau- 
tiful white-and-green  arcade,  whose  columns  were  the  snowy 
stems  of  birches,  and  whose  roof  was  a  mass  of  delicate 
tracery  and  drooping  foliage.  The  road  resembled  an  avenue 
through  an  extensive  and  well-kept  park,  rather  than  a  great 
Siberian  thoroughfare,  and  I  could  not  help  feeling  as  if  I 
might  look  up  at  any  moment  and  see  an  English  castle, 
or  a  splendid  country  villa.  According  to  tradition  these 
birches  were  planted  by  order  of  the  Empress  Catherine  II., 
and  the  part  of  the  great  Siberian  road  which  they  shade  is 
known  as  "  Catherine's  Alley."  Whether  the  object  of  the 
great  Tsaritsa  was  to  render  less  toilsome  and  oppressive 
the  summer  march  of  the  exiles,  or  whether  she  hoped,  by 
this  means,  to  encourage  emigi'ation  to  the  country  in  which 
she  took  so  deep  an  interest,  I  do  not  know ;  but  the  long 
lines  of  beautiful  birches  have  for  more  than  a  century  kept 
her  memory  green,  and  her  name  has  doubtless  been  blessed 
by  thousands  of  hot  and  tired  wayfarers  whom  her  trees 
have  protected  from  the  fierce  Siberian  sunshine. 

Almost  the  first  peculiarity  of  a  West  Siberian  landscape 
that  strikes  a  traveler  from  America  is  the  complete  absence 
of  fences  and  farm-houses.  The  cultivated  land  of  the  peas- 
ants is  regularly  laid  out  into  fields,  but  the  fields  are  not 
5 


66  SIBERIA 

inclosed,  and  one  may  ride  for  two  or  three  hours  at  a  time 
through  a  fertile  and  highly  cultivated  region  without  see- 
ing a  single  fence,  farm-house,  or  detached  building.     The 
absence  of  fences  is  due  to  the  Siberian  practice  of  inclosing 
the  cattle  in  the  common  pasture  which  surrounds  the  vil- 
lage, instead  of  fencing  the  fields  that  lie  outside.     The 
absence  of  farm-houses  is  to  be  explained  by  the  fact  that 
the  Siberian  peasant  does  not  own  the  land  that  he  culti- 
vates, and  therefore  has  no  inducement  to  build  upon  it. 
With  a  very  few  exceptions,  all  of  the  land  in  Siberia  belongs 
to  the  Crown.    The  village  communes  enjoy  the  usufruct  of 
it,  but  they  have  no  legal  title,  and  cannot  dispose  of  it  nor 
reduce  any  part  of  it  to  individual  ownership.    All  that  they 
have  power  to  do  is  to  divide  it  up  among  their  members  by 
periodical  allotments,  and  to  give  to  each  head  of  a  family 
a  sort  of  tenancy-at-will.     Every  time  there  is  a  new  allot- 
ment, the  several  tracts  of  arable  land  held  under  the  Crown 
by  the  commune  may  change  tenants ;  so  that  if  an  individ- 
ual should  build  a  house  or  a  barn  upon  the  tract  of  which 
he  was  the  temporary  occupant,  he  might,  and  probably 
would,  be  forced  sooner  or  later  to  abandon  it.    The  result 
of  this  system  of  land  tenure  and  this  organization  of  society 
is  to  segregate  the  whole  population  in  villages,  and  to  leave 
all  of  the  intervening  land  unsettled.    In  the  United  States, 
such  a  farming  region  as  that  between  the  Urals  and  Tin- 
men would  be  dotted  with  houses,  granaries,  and  barns; 
and  it  seemed  very  strange  to  ride,  as  we  rode,  for  more  than 
eighty  miles,  through  a  country  that  was  everywhere  more 
or  less  cultivated,  without  seeing  a  single  building  of  any 
kind  outside  of  the  villages. 

Another  peculiarity  of  Western  Siberia  which  strongly 
impresses  an  American  is  the  shabbiness  and  cheerlessness 
of  most  of  its  settlements.  In  a  country  so  fertile,  highly 
cultivated,  and  apparently  prosperous  as  this,  one  naturally 
expects  to  see  in  the  villages  some  signs  of  enterprise,  com- 
fort, and  taste  ;  but  one  is  almost  everywhere  disappointed. 


THE   FLOWERY   PLAINS   OF   TOBOLSK 


67 


A  West  Siberian  village  cousists  of  two  rows  of  unpainted 
one-story  log-houses  with  A-shaped  or  pyramidal  roofs, 
standing  directly  on  the  street,  without  front  yards  or  front 
doors.  Between  every  two  houses  there  is  an  inclosed  side 
yard,  around  which  stand  sheds,  granaries,  and  barns ;  and 
from  this  side  yard  or  court  there  is  an  entrance  to  the 
house.    The  court-yard  gate  is  sometimes  ornamented  with 


A  SIBERIAN    PEASANT'S    HOUSE,   BARN,   AND    COURT-YARD    GATE. 


carved  or  incised  wood- work,  as  shown  in  the  above  illus- 
tration ;  the  window-shutters  of  the  houses  are  almost 
always  elaborately  painted,  and  the  projecting  edges  of  the 
gable  roofs  are  masked  with  long  strips  of  carved  or  deco- 
rated board ;  but  with  these  exceptions  the  dwellings  of  the 
peasants  are  simple  log  structures  of  the  plainest  type,  and 
a  large  proportion  of  them  are  old,  weather-beaten,  and  in 
bad  repair.  The  wide  street  has  no  sidewalks ;  it  is  some- 
times a  sea  of  liquid  mud  from  the  walls  of  the  houses  on 


08  SIBERIA 

one  side  to  the  walls  of  the  houses  ou  the  other ;  and  there 
is  not  a  tree,  nor  a  bush,  nor  a  square  yard  of  grass  in  the 
settlement.  Bristly,  slab-sided,  razor-backed  pigs  lie  here 
and  there  in  the  mud,  or  wander  up  and  down  the  street  in 
search  of  food,  and  the  whole  village  makes  upon  an  Ameri- 
can an  impression  of  shiftlessness,  poverty,  and  squalor. 
This  impression,  I  am  glad  to  say,  is  in  most  cases  deceptive. 
There  is  in  all  of  these  villages  more  or  less  individual  com- 
fort and  prosperity ;  but  the  Siberian  peasant  does  not  seem 
to  take  any  pride  in  the  external  appearance  of  his  premises, 
and  pays  little  attention  to  beautifying  them  or  keeping 
them  in  order.  The  condition  of  the  whole  village,  more- 
over, indicates  a  lack  of  public  spirit  and  enterprise  on  the 
part  of  its  inhabitants.  As  long  as  an  evil  or  a  nuisance  is 
endurable,  there  seems  to  be  no  disposition  to  abate  it,  and 
the  result  is  the  general  neglect  of  all  public  improvements. 
Much  of  this  seeming  indifference  is  doubtless  attributable 
to  the  paralyzing  influence  of  a  paternal  and  all-regulating 
Government.  One  can  hardly  expect  the  villagers  to  take 
the  initiative,  or  to  manifest  public  spirit  and  enterprise, 
when  nothing  whatever  can  be  done  without  permission 
from  the  official  representatives  of  the  Crown,  and  when  the 
very  first  effort  to  promote  the  general  well-being  is  likely 
to  be  thwarted  by  some  bureaucratic  "  regulation,"  or  the 
caprice  of  some  local  police  officer.  All  that  the  peasants 
can  do  is  to  obey  orders,  await  the  pleasure  of  the  higher  au- 
thorities, and  thank  Grod  that  things  are  no  worse. 

Almost  the  only  indication  of  taste  that  one  sees  in  a  West 
Siberian  settlement,  and  the  only  evidence  of  a  love  of  the 
beautiful  for  its  own  sake,  is  furnished  by  the  plants  and 
flowers  in  the  windows  of  the  houses.  Although  there  may 
not  be  a  tree  nor  a  blade  of  grass  in  the  whole  village,  the 
windows  of  nine  houses  out  of  ten  will  be  filled  with  splendid 
blossoming  fuchsias,  oleanders,  cactuses,  geraniums,  tea- 
roses,  and  variegated  cinnamon  pinks.  One  rarely  finds, 
even  in  a  florist's  greenhouse,  more  beautiful  flowers  than 


THE    FLOWERY   PLAINS   OF   TOBOLSK  69 

may  be  seen  in  the  windows  of  many  a  poor  Siberian  peas- 
ant's dwelling.  Owing  to  some  peculiarity  in  the  composi- 
tion of  the  glass,  these  windows  are  almost  always  vividly 
iridescent,  some  of  them  rivaling  in  color  the  Cesnola  glass 
from  Cyprus.  The  contrast  between  the  black,  weather- 
beaten  logs  of  the  houses  and  the  brilliant  squares  of  irides- 
cence that  they  inclose — between  the  sea  of  liquid  mud  in 
the  verdureless  streets  and  the  splendid  clusters  of  conser- 
vatory flowers  in  the  windows — is  sometimes  very  striking. 

On  the  walls  of  many  of  the  log  houses  in  the  villages 
through  which  we  passed  were  unmistakable  e^ddences  of 
the  existence,  in  Western  Siberia,  of  an  organized  volun- 
teer fire  department.  These  e\ddences  took  the  form,  gen- 
erally, of  rough  pictorial  representations,  in  red  paint,  of 
the  fire-extinguishing  apparatus  that  the  houses  contained. 
On  the  gable  end  of  one  cabin,  for  example,  there  would  be 
a  rudely  drawn  outline  of  a  fire-bucket ;  on  another  a  pic- 
ture of  a  ladder ;  while  on  a  third  would  appear  a  gi-aphic 
sketch  of  a  huge  broad-ax  that  looked  red  and  blood- 
thirsty enough  to  have  belonged  to  Ivan  the  Terrible.  In 
the  event  of  a  fire,  every  householder  was  expected  to 
make  his  appearance  promptly,  armed  and  equipped  with 
the  implement  pictorially  represented  on  the  wall  of  his 
house.  I  made  a  careful  inventory  of  the  fire-extinguish- 
ing apparatus  promised  by  the  mural  sketches  along  one 
village  street  through  which  we  passed,  and  found  it  to 
consist  of  seven  axes,  eleven  buckets,  three  ladders,  one 
sledge-hammer,  one  barrel  mounted  on  wheels,  two  pulling- 
down  hooks,  and  a  pair  of  scissors.  Exactly  in  what  way 
they  use  scissors  in  Siberia  to  put  out  fires  I  am  unable  to 
explain.  I  gave  the  subject  a  great  deal  of  thought,  but 
arrived  only  at  conjectural  conclusions.  Mr.  Frost  was  of 
opinion  that  the  house  decorated  with  the  picture  of  the 
scissors  was  the  home  of  the  "exchange  editor";  but  I  in- 
sisted, as  a  newspaper  man,  that  the  "exchange  editor"  could 
not  be  expected  to  run  to  fires,  even  in  as  benighted  a  coun- 


70  SIBERIA 

try  as  Siberia,  and  that,  moreover,  no  Russian  editor  would 
dare  to  look  at  a  fire  —  niucli  less  run  to  one — without 
written  permission  from  the  press-censor,  countersigned 
by  the  chief  of  police,  and  indorsed  by  the  procureur  of  the 
Holy  Synod  and  the  gldiiil  uavhdbilk  of  the  Department 
of  Public  Safety.  In  my  judgment,  therefore,  it  was  prob- 
able that  the  house  was  the  residence  of  the  tailor  who 
cut  out  and  fitted  uniforms  for  the  firemen  whenever  it 
became  necessary  for  them  to  act  in  their  official  capacity. 
It  would  have  a  very  demoralizing  tendency,  of  course, 
and  would  unsettle  the  public  mind,  if  a  fire  should  be  ex- 
tinguished by  men  who  passed  buckets  in  their  shirt-sleeves. 
It  was  of  the  utmost  importance,  therefore,  that  the  firemen 
should  be  able  to  find  the  house  of  the  duly  authorized 
tailor  and  get  their  uniforms  made  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment  after  the  sounding  of  the  alarm.  I  tried  to  make 
Mr.  Frost  see  what  a  terrible  state  of  things  would  exist  if 
there  were  no  picture  of  scissors  to  designate  the  tailor's 
house,  and  the  firemen  should  be  unable  to  find  it  when  a 
fire  had  broken  out  in  the  next  street  and  they  wanted 
their  uniforms  cut  and  fitted  instantly.  But  the  graphic 
picture  that  I  drew  of  the  horrors  of  such  a  situation  did 
not  seem  to  touch  his  callous  sensibilities.  He  had  not 
lived  long  enough  in  Russia  to  really  feel  and  appreciate 
the  importance  of  getting  into  a  uniform  before  under- 
taking to  do  anything. 

As  we  approached  Tinmen  we  left  behind  us  the  open 
plains  and  the  beautiful  farming  country  that  had  so  much 
surprised  and  delighted  us,  and  entered  a  low,  swampy, 
and  almost  impenetrable  forest,  abounding  in  flowers,  but 
swarming  with  mosquitoes.  The  road,  which  before  had 
been  comparatively  smooth  and  dry,  became  a  quagmire 
of  black,  tenacious  mud,  in  which  the  wheels  of  our  heavy 
tdrantds  sank  to  the  hubs,  and  through  which  our  progress 
was  so  slow  that  we  were  four  hours  in  traversing  a  single 
stretch  of  about  eighteen  miles.     Attempts  had  apparently 


THE   FLOWERY   PLAINS   OF   TOBOLSK  71 

been  made  here  and  there  to  improve  this  part  of  the  route 
by  laying  down  in  the  soft,  marshy  soil  a  corduroy  of  logs ; 
but  the  logs  had  sunk  unequally  under  the  pounding  wheels 
of  ten  thousand  loaded  freight  wagons,  leaving  enormous 
transverse  ruts  and  hollows  filled  with  mud,  so  that  the 
only  result  of  the  "improvement"  was  to  render  the  road 
more  nearly  impassable  than  before,  and  to  add  unendur- 
able jolting  to  our  other  discomforts.  At  last,  weary  of 
lurches,  jolts,  and  concussions,  we  alighted,  and  tried  walk- 
ing by  the  roadside ;  but  the  sunshine  was  so  intensely  hot, 
and  the  mosquitoes  so  fierce  and  bloodthirsty,  that  in  twenty 
minutes  we  were  glad  to  climb  back  into  the  tdrantds  with 
our  hands  full  of  flowers,  and  our  faces  scarlet  from  heat 
and  mosquito  bites.  Upon  comparing  our  impressions  we 
found  that  we  were  unanimously  of  the  opinion  that  if  we 
had  been  the  original  discoverers  of  this  country,  we  should 
have  named  it  either  Florida  or  Culexia,  since  flowers  and 
mosquitoes  are  its  distinctive  characteristics  and  its  most 
abundant  products. 

At  the  gate-keeper's  lodge  of  one  of  the  last  villages  that 
we  passed  before  reaching  Tiumen,  we  were  greeted  with 
the  ringing  of  a  large  hand-bell.  The  sound  was  strangely 
suggestive  of  an  auction,  but  as  we  stopj)ed  in  front  of  the 
village  gate  the  bell-ringer,  a  bareheaded  man  in  a  long 
black  gowQi,  with  a  mass  of  flaxen  hair  hanging  over  his 
shoulders  and  a  savings-bank  box  suspended  from  his 
neck,  approached  the  tdrantds  and  called  our  attention  to  a 
large,  brownish  picture  in  a  tarnished  gilt  frame  resting  on  a 
sort  of  improvised  easel  by  the  roadside.  It  was  evidently 
an  ikon  or  portrait  of  some  holy  saint  from  a  Russian  church ; 
but  what  was  the  object  of  setting  it  up  there,  and  what 
relation  it  bore  to  us,  we  could  not  imagine.  Finally  the 
bell-ringer,  bowing,  crossing  himself,  and  invoking  bless- 
ings on  our  heads,  implored  us,  Kliristd  rddi  [for  Christ's 
sake],  to  contribute  to  the  support  of  the  holy  saint's 
church,  which,  it  appeared,  w^as  situated  sornewhere  in  the 


i  2  SIBERIA 

viciiiity.  This  combination  of  an  auctioneer's  bell,  a  saint's 
image,  a  toll-gate,  and  a  church  beggar,  greatly  amused 
Mr.  Frost,  who  inquired  whether  the  holy  saint  owned  the 
road  and  collected  toll.  The  gate-keeper  explained  that  the 
saint  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  road,  but  the  church  was 
poor,  and  the  "noble  gentlemen  "  who  passed  that  way  were 
accustomed  to  contribute  to  its  support;  and  (removing 
his  hat)  "  most  of  the  noble  gentlemen  remembered  also  the 
poor  gate-keeper."  Of  course  the  two  noble  gentlemen, 
with  mosquito-bitten  faces,  rumpled  hair,  soiled  shirt-col- 
lars, and  nuid-bespattered  clothing,  sitting  with  noble  dig- 
nity on  a  luxurious  steamer-trunk  in  a  miry  tdrantds,  could 
not  resist  such  an  appeal  as  this  to  their  noble  sympathies. 
We  gave  the  gate-keeper  a  few  copper  coins  with  directions 
to  put  half  of  them  into  the  savings  bank  of  the  black- 
robed  deacon,  and  having  thus  contributed  to  the  support 
of  two  great  Russian  institutions,  the  church  and  the  grog- 
shop, we  rode  on. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  Thursday,  June  18,  we  came  out 
of  the  forest  into  an  extensive  marshy  plain,  tinted  a  pecu- 
liar greenish-yellow  by  swamp  grass  and  buttercups,  and 
our  driver,  pointing  ahead  with  his  whip,  said,  "There  is 
Tinmen."  All  that  we  could  see  of  the  distant  city  was  a 
long  line  of  pyramidal  board  roofs  on  the  horizon,  broken 
here  and  there  by  the  white  stuccoed  walls  of  a  Grovernment 
building,  or  the  green-domed  belfries  and  towers  of  a  Russo- 
Greek  church.  As  we  approached  it  we  passed  in  succession 
a  square  marble  column  marking  the  spot  where  the  citizens 
of  Tiumen  bade  good-by  to  the  Grand  Duke  Vladimir  in 
1868 ;  a  squad  of  soldiers  engaged  in  target  practice,  step- 
ping forward  and  firing  volleys  by  ranks  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  a  flourish  of  bugles ;  a  series  of  long,  low  sheds 
surrounded  by  white-tilted  emigrant  wagons,  and  finally, 
in  the  suburbs,  the  famous  exile  forwarding  prison. 

There  were  two  or  three  hotels  in  the  town,  but  upon  the 
recommendation  of  our  driver  we  went  to  the  "  Rooms  for 


THE   FLOWERY   PLAINS   OF   TOBOLSK  73 

Arrivers,"  or  furnished  apartments,  of  one  Kovalski,  who 
occupied  a  two-story  brick  house  near  the  bank  of  the  river 
in  the  eastern  part  of  the  city.  About  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening  we  finally  alighted  from  our  muddy  tdrantds  in 
Kovalski's  court-yard,  having  made  a  journey  of  two  hundred 
and  four  miles  in  two  days,  with  eleven  changes  of  horses, 
and  having  spent  more  than  forty  houi-s  without  sleep,  sit- 
ting in  a  cramped  and  uncomfortable  position  on  Mr.  Frost's 
trunk.  My  neck  and  spine  were  so  stiff  and  lame  from  in- 
cessant jolting  that  I  could  not  have  made  a  bow  to  the  Tsar 
of  all  the  Russias,  and  I  was  so  tired  that  I  could  hardly 
climb  the  stairs  leading  to  the  second  story  of  Kovalski's 
house.  As  soon  as  possible  after  dinner  we  went  to  bed,  and 
for  twelve  hours  slept  the  sleep  of  exhaustion. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   TIUMEN   FORWAKDING   PRISON 

^I^IUMEN,  where  we  virtually  began  our  Siberian  journey 
_L  as  well  as  our  investigation  of  the  exile  system,  is  a 
town  of  19,000  inhabitants,  situated  1700  miles  east  of  St. 
Petersburg,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river  Tura  just  above 
the  junction  of  the  latter  with  the  Tobol.  The  chief  inter- 
est that  the  place  had  for  us  lay  in  the  fact  that  it  contains 
the  most  important  exile  forwarding  prison  in  Siberia,  and 
the  Frlkd^  o  Silnihh,  or  Chief  Bureau  of  Exile  Adminis- 
tration. Through  the  Tinmen  prison  pass  all  persons  con- 
demned to  banishment,  colonization,  or  penal  servitude  in 
Siberia,  and  in  the  Tinmen  prikdz  are  kept  all  the  records 
and  statistics  of  the  exile  system. 

Russian  exiles  began  to  go  to  Siberia  very  soon  after  its 
discovery  and  conquest— as  early  probably  as  the  first  half 
of  the  seventeenth  century.  The  earliest  mention  of  exile  in 
Russian  legislation  is  in  a  law  of  the  Tsar  Alexei  Mikhai- 
lovich  in  1648.'  Exile,  however,  at  that  time,  was  regarded 
not  as  a  punishment  in  itself,  but  as  a  means  of  getting 
criminals  who  had  already  been  punished  out  of  the  way. 
The  Russian  criminal  code  of  that  age  was  almost  incredi- 
bly cruel  and  barbarous.  Men  were  impaled  on  sharp 
stakes,  hanged,  and  beheaded  by  the  hundred  for  crimes 
that  would  not  now  be  regarded  as  capital  in  any  civilized 
country  in  the  world;  while  lesser  offenders  were  flogged 
with  the  hnit  and  bastinado,  branded  with  hot  irons,  muti- 

1  Poln.  Sobr.  Zakonof,  torn.  I.  Vlozhenie,  gl.  XIX,  p.  13.  [Full  Collection  of 
Russian  Laws,  Vol.  I."    Penal  Code,  Ch.  XIX,  p.  13.] 


THE   TIUMEN   FORWARDING   PRISON  75 

Icited  by  amputatioii  of  one  or  more  of  their  limits,  deprived 
of  their  tongues,  and  suspended  in  the  air  by  hooks  passed 
under  two  of  their  ribs  until  they  died  a  lingering  and 
miserable  death.'  When  criminals  had  been  thus  knitted, 
bastinadoed,  branded,  or  crippled  by  amputation,  Siberian 
exile  was  resorted  to  as  a  quick  and  easy  method  of  getting 
them  out  of  the  way ;  and  in  this  attempt  to  rid  society  of 
criminals  who  were  both  morally  and  physically  useless 
Siberian  exile  had  its  origin.  The  amelioration,  however, 
of  the  Russian  criminal  code,  which  began  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  the  progi^essive  develop- 
ment of  Siberia  itself  gradually  brought  about  a  change  in 
the  view  taken  of  Siberian  exile.  Instead  of  regarding  it, 
as  before,  as  a  means  of  getting  rid  of  disabled  criminals, 
the  Government  began  to  look  upon  it  as  a  means  of  pop- 
ulating and  developing  a  new  and  promising  part  of  its 
Asiatic  territory.  Toward  the  close  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  therefore,  we  find  a  number  of  ukdzes  abolishing 
personal  mutilation  as  a  method  of  punishment,  and  substi- 
tuting for  it,  and  in  a  large  number  of  cases  even  for  the 
death  penalty,  the  banishment  of  the  criminal  to  Siberia 
with  all  his  family."  About  the  same  time  exile,  as  a  pun- 
ishment, began  to  be  extended  to  a  large  number  of  crimes 
that  had  previously  been  punished  in  other  ways ;  as,  for 
example,  desertion  from  the  army,  assault  with  intent  to 
kill,  and  vagrancy  when  the  vagrant  was  unfit  for  military 
service  and  no  land-owner  or  village  commune  would  take 
charge  of  him.  Men  were  exiled,  too,  for  almost  every  con- 
ceivable sort  of  minor  offense,  such,  for  instance,  as  fortune- 
telling,   prize-fighting,   snuff-takingy   driving  with  reins,^ 

1  Izsledovdniya  o  Protsente  Soslannikh  Vol.  I,  Nos.  105,  343,  and  441,  and  Vol. 
V  Sibir;  E.  N.  Amichina;  Vedmie.     [An  II,  Nos.  772,  970,  1002,  and  1004. 
Investigation    of    the   Percentages   of  3  The  snuff-taker  was  not  only  ban- 
Siberian   Exiles ;   by  E.  N.  Anuchin ;  ished  to  Siberia,  but  had  the  septum 
Introduction.]      Memoirs   of   the   Im-  between  his  nostrils  torn  out. 

perial   Russian  Geographical  Society,  ■*  This  was  punished  as  a  Western  or 

Statistical    Section,    St.     Petersburg,  European   innovation.     The   old  Rus- 

1873.  sian   driver   had   been  accustomed  to 

2  Full  Collection  of  Russian  Laws,  ride  his  horse  or  run  beside  it. 


76  SIBERIA 

begging  with  a  pretense  of  being  in  distress,  and  setting 
fire  to  property  accidentally.' 

In  the  eighteenth  century  the  great  mineral  and  agricul- 
tural resources  of  Siberia  began  to  attract  to  it  the  serious 
and  earnest  attention  of  the  Russian  government.  The 
discovery  of  the  Daurski  silver  mines,  and  the  rich  mines 
of  Nerchinsk  in  the  Siberian  territory  of  the  Trans-Baikal, 
created  a  sudden  demand  for  labor,  which  led  the  govern- 
ment to  promulgate  a  new  series  of  ukclzes  providing  for 
the  transportation  thither  of  convicts  from  the  Russian 
prisons.  In  1762  permission  was  given  to  all  individuals 
and  corporations  owning  serfs,  to  hand  the  latter  over  to 
the  local  authorities  for  banishment  to  Siberia  whenever 
they  thought  they  had  good  reason  for  so  doing.-  With 
the  abolition  of  capital  punishment  in  1753,  all  criminals 
that,  under  the  old  law,  would  have  been  put  to  death,  were 
condemned  to  perpetual  exile  in  Siberia  with  hard  labor. 

In  the  reign  of  Catherine  II.  the  demand  for  laborers  in 
Siberia  became  more  and  more  imperative,  by  reason  of  the 
discovery  of  the  rich  and  important  mines  of  Ekaterinburg, 
and  the  establishment  of  large  manufactories  in  Irkiitsk; 
and  the  list  of  crimes  and  offenses  punishable  by  exile  grew 
larger  and  larger.  Jews  were  exiled  for  refusing  or  neg- 
lecting to  pay  their  taxes  for  three  successive  years ;  serfs 
were  exiled  for  cutting  down  trees  without  leave ;  non- 
commissioned officers  of  the  army  were  exiled  for  second 
offenses  of  various  kinds,  and  bad  conduct  of  almost  any 
sort  became  a  sufficient  warrant  for  deportation  to  Siberia. 

Up  to  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century,  very  little  atten- 
tion was  paid  to  the  treatment  of  the  exiles  en  route.,  and 
still  less  to  the  proper  organization  and  control  of  the  exile 
system.     Kolodniks.,  as  the  exiles  were  then  called,  were 

1  Full   Collection  of  Russian  Laws,  the   St.  Petersburg  Juridical   Society, 

Vol.  VIII,  Nos.  5611,  5632,  5441,  and  March  8,  1887. 

Vol.    IX,  No.  6406.     See  also  a  paper  -  Full  Collection  of  Russian  Laws, 

entitled  "Exile  in  Russia  in  the  Sev-  Vol.  XIII,  Nos.  10,086  and  9643,  and 

enteenthCentury,"by  Professor  Serge-  Vol.  XV,  No.  11,116. 
yefski,  read  at  the  annual  meeting  of 


THE   TIUMEN   FORWARDING   PRISON  77 

simply  driven  in  troops,  like  catflle,  from  one  provincial  town 
to  another,  sometimes  begging  their  way  because  no  pro- 
vision had  been  made  for  their  subsistence,  and  sometimes 
starving  to  death  on  the  road.  No  one  knew  who  they  were, 
whence  they  had  come,  what  crimes  they  had  committed,  or 
whither  they  were  going.  Hardened  murderers,  who  should 
have  been  sent  to  the  mines  for  life,  were  set  at  liberty  in 
Siberia  as  colonists ;  while  unfortunate  peasants  who  had 
merely  lost  their  passports,  or  incurred  the  resentment  of 
some  hot-tempered  land-owner,  were  kept  at  hard  labor  in 
the  mines  until  they  perished  from  privation  and  cruel 
treatment.  The  exile  system,  in  short,  was  nothing  but  a 
chaos  of  disorder,  in  which  accident  and  caprice  played 
almost  equally  important  parts.' 

Early  in  the  nineteenth  centmy,  steps  were  taken  by  the 
Government  to  remedy  some  of  the  evils  that  had  become 
apparent  under  this  lax  system  of  administration,  and  to 
subject  the  methods  of  exile  to  stricter  control.  In  1811  a 
suitable  force  of  regular  guards  was  organized  to  convoy 
exile  parties,  and  all  exiles  were  furnished  with  identifying 
documents,  called  stateini  spiskl,  to  show  who  they  were  and 
whither  they  were  bound.  In  1817  etapes^  or  exile  station- 
houses,  were  erected  along  the  most  important  routes ;  and 
in  1823,  upon  the  initiative  of  the  great  Russian  reformer 
Count  Speranski,  the  present  PriMz  o  Silnikh,  or  Bureau  of 
Exile  Administration,  was  established  in  Tobolsk.    It  has 

1  Count  Speranski,  for  exami^le,  re-  necessary  to  refer  to  one  of  the  many 
f  ers  to  a  ease  in  which  a  peasant  from  arbitrary  acts  of  the  notorious  Siberian 
the  Russian  province  of  Kostroma  was  governor  Treskin.  Taking  a  spite,  for 
condemned  to  forced  colonization  for  some  reason,  against  one  of  the  eoun- 
havinginnocently bought  a  stolenhorse.  cilors  of  the  Kasonaya  Palcita,  or  State 
Through  confusion  and  error  he  was  Chamber,  Treskin  banished  the  latter 
not  set  at  liberty  in  Siberia,  as  he  ought  from  the  province  of  Irkutsk,  with  in- 
to have  been,  but  was  transported  as  a  structions  that  he  should  not  be  allowed 
murderer  to  the  Berozef  mines,  where  to  live  more  than  ten  days  in  any  one 
he  worked  twenty-three  years  under-  place.  The  unfortunate  exile  spent  the 
ground.  See  Speranski's  explanation  remainder  of  his  life  in  wandering  aim- 
of  his  projected  "  Exile  Statutes,"  Vos-  lessly  about  Siberia.  Sihir  i  Edtorga 
tochnoe  Ohozrenie,  No.  7,  1887,  p.  2.  [Siberia and  Penal  Servitude],  S.  Max- 

As  an  illustration  of  the  extent  to  imof,  St.  Petersburg,  1871, Vol.  Ill,  p.  8. 
which  caprice  was  can-ied,  it  is  onlj^ 


78  SIBERIA 

since  been  removed  to  Tiu!neii.  The  duties  of  this  bureau 
are  of  a  two-fold  nature.  In  the  first  place  it  sorts  and 
classifies  all  exiles,  upon  their  arrival  in  Tinmen,  and  keeps 
a  full  and  accurate  record  of  them,  and  in  the  second  it 
watches  and  controls,  through  six  subordinate  bureaus,  their 
transportation  and  distribution  throughout  Siberia.  These 
subordinate  bureaus,  which  are  known  as  expeditsii  o  silnikh, 
are  situated  in  Kazan,  Perm,  Tobolsk,  Tomsk,  Krasnojwsk, 
and  Irkutsk.  They  are  aided  in  their  work  of  supervision 
and  control  by  three  inspectors  of  exile  transportation,  each 
of  whom  looks  after  one  division  of  the  great  exile  route. 
At  the  time  of  our  journey,  Colonel  Vinokurof  was  inspector 
of  exile  transportation  for  Western  Siberia  with  headquar- 
ters at  Tinmen,  while  Colonel  Zagarin  occupied  a  similar  po- 
sition in  Eastern  Siberia  with  headquarters  at  Krasnoyarsk. 
Since  the  organization  of  the  FriMz  o  Silnikh  in  1823,  a 
careful  and  accurate  record  has  been  kept  of  all  the  exiles 
that  have  crossed  the  Siberian  frontier  ;  and  from  the  books 
of  this  great  central  bureau  may  now  be  obtained  the  full- 
est statistical  information  with  regard  to  the  working  of  the 
exile  system.  The  first  questions  that  naturally  rise  in  one's 
mind  in  connection  with  this  subject  are,  "  How  many  per- 
sons are  banished  to  Siberia  annually,  and  how  many  have 
been  sent  there  in  all  1 "  From  the  records  of  the  Frikdz  o 
Silnikh  it  appears  that  between  the  years  1823  and  1887  in- 
clusive there  were  sent  to  Siberia  772,979  exiles,  as  follows: 

From  1823  to  1832 98,725  Brought  forward 593,914 

From  1833  to  1842 86,550  In  1878 17,790 

From  1843  to  1852 69,764  In  1879 18,255 

From  1853  to  1862 101,238  In  1880 17,660 

From  1863  to  1872 146,380  In  1881 17,183 

From  1873  to  1877 91,257  In  1882 16,945 

In  1883 19,314 

Total    593,914    In  1884 17,824 

In  1885 18,843 

In  1886 17,477 

In  1887 17,774 


Totall 772,979 

1  The  statistics  of  exile  in  this  chapter  are  all  from  official  sources,  as  are  also 
the  facts,  unless  otherwise  stated. 


THE   TIUMEN   FORWARDING   PRISON  79 

Exiles  to  Siberia  may  be  grouped,  according  to  the  nature 
of  their  sentences,  into  four  great  classes,  namely : 

1.  Kdtorzhniki  or  hard-labor  convicts. 

2.  PoseUiitsi  or  penal  colonists. 

3.  Silni  or  persons  simply  banished. 

4.  Dohrovolni  or  women  and  children  that  go  to  Siberia 
voluntarily  with  their  exiled  husbands  or  parents.  Persons 
belonging  to  the  first  two  classes,  who  are  always  supposed 
to  be  criminals,  are  deprived  of  all  civil  rights  and  must  re- 
main in  Siberia  for  life.  Persons  belonging  to  the  third 
class,  who  are  not  necessarily  criminals,  retain  some  of  their 
civil  rights  and  may  return  to  European  Russia  at  the  ex- 
piration of  their  terms  of  banishment.  Convicts  and  penal 
colonists  go  to  their  places  of  destination  in  five-pound  leg- 
fetters  and  with  half-shaven  heads,  while  simple  exiles  wear 
no  fetters  and  arc  not  personally  disfigured.  Exiles  of  the 
third,  class  comprise : 

a.  Vagrants  (persons  without  passports  who  refuse  to  dis- 
close their  identity). 

h.  Persons  banished  by  sentence  of  a  court. 

c.  Persons  banished  by  the  village  communes  to  which 
they  belong. 

d.  Persons  banished  by  order  of  the  Minister  of  the  In- 
terior. 

The  relative  proportions  of  these  several  classes  for  1885, 
the  year  that  I  spent  in  Siberia,  may  be  shown  in  tabular 
form  as  follows : 

Penal  Class.  Males.    Females.    Total. 

I.  Hard-labor  convicts  [kd.torzhniki],  punished  by  ?     j  ^q        j^j        ^  ggj 

sentence  of  a  court ) 

II.  Penal  colonists  [posel^ntsi],  punished  by  sentence  ^     2  526        133        2  6r)9 

of  a  court > 

a.  Vagrants 1,646  73        1,719 


III.  Exiles 


Exiled  by  judicial  sentence 172  10  182 


I": 

]  c.  Exiled  by  village  communes 3,.535  216  3,758 

I  d.  Exiled  by  executive  order 300  68  361 

IV.  Voluntaries  [dobrovolni],  accompanying  relatives        2,068  3,468  5,.536 

Totals   11,687  4,079  15,766 


80 


SIBERIA 


All  aiialysis  of  this  classified  statement  reveals  some 
curious  and  suggestive  facts.  It  shows  in  the  first  place  that 
the  largest  single  class  of  exiles  (5536  out  of  15,760)  is  com- 
posed of  women  and  children  who  go  to  Siberia  voluntarily 
with  their  husbands  and  fathers.'  It  shows,  in  the  second 
place,  that  out  of  the  10,230  persons  sent  to  Siberia  as  crim- 
inals, only  4392,  or  less  than  a  half,  have  had  a  trial  by  a 
court,  w^hile  5838  are  exiled  by  "administrative  process"  — 
that  is,  by  a  mere  order  from  the  Minister  of  the  Interior.'- 
Finally,  it  shows  that  more  than  one-third  of  the  involun- 
tary exiles  (3751  out  of  10,230)  were  sent  to  Siberia  by  vil- 
lage communes,  and  not  by  the  Government. 

Every  mir,  or  village  commune,  in  Russia  has  the  right 
to  banish  any  of  its  members  who,  through,  bad  conduct  or 
general  worthlessness,  have  rendered  themselves  obnoxious 
to  their  fellow-citizens  and  burdensome  to  society.  It  has 
also  the  right  to  refuse  to  receive  any  of  its  members  who, 
after  serving  out  terms  of  imi3risonment  for  crime,  return 
to  the  mir  and  ask  to  be  re-admitted.     Released  prisoners 


1  The  records  of  the  Bureau  of  Exile 
Administration  for  the  four  years  end- 
ing with  the  year  of  my  visit  to  Siberia 
show  that  the  numbers  and  pereent- 

TVhole  numher 
Year.  of  exiles. 

1882 16,945 

1883 19,314 

1884 17,824 

1885 18,843 


ages  of  women  and  children  who  volun- 
tarily accompanied  their  husbands  and 
fathers  to  Siberia  are  as  follows : 

Women  and 
children.  Percentage, 

5,276 31 

6,311 33 

6,067 34 

5,536 28 


Totals  72,926 

••  2  The  proportion  of  the  judicially  sen- 
tenced to  the  administratively  banished 
varies  little  from  year  to  year.  In  the 
ten-year  period  from  1867  to  1876  in- 
clusive, there  were  sent  to  Siberia 
151,585  exiles;  48.80  per  cent,  went  un- 
der sentences  of  courts,  and  51.20  per 
cent,  were  banished  by  administrative 
process.  In  the  seven-year  period  from 
1880  to  1886  inclusive,  there  passed 
through  the  Tinmen  forwarding  prison 
120,065  exiles,  of  whom  64,513,  or  53.7 


23,190  31 

per  cent., had  been  tried  and  condemned 
by  courts,  and  55,552,  or  46.3  per  cent., 
had  been  banished  by  orders  from  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior.  A  prison  re- 
form commission  appointed  by  Alex- 
ander II.  in  the  latter  part  of  the  last 
decade  reported  that  on  an  average 
45.6  per  cent,  of  all  the  exiles  sent  to 
Siberia  went  under  sentences  of  courts, 
and  54.4  per  cent,  were  banished  by 
administrative  process. 


THE   TIUMEN   FOEWAEDING   PRISON  81 

whom  the  niir  will  not  thus  readmit  are  exiled  to  Siberia 
by  administrative  process. 

The  political  offenders  that  are  exiled  to  Siberia  do  not 
constitute  a  separate  penal  class  or  grade,  but  are  distrib- 
uted among  all  of  the  classes  above  enumerated.  I  was 
not  able  to  obtain  full  and  trustworthy  statistics  with  re- 
gard to  them  from  any  source  of  information  open  to  me. 
A  fragmentary  record  of  them  has  been  kept  recently  by 
the  inspectors  of  exile  transportation,  but  this  record  covers 
only  a  few  years,  and  includes  only  "  administratives,"  or 
persons  banished  by  executive  order  for  political  "  untrust- 
worthiness."  All  the  rest  are  classed,  both  in  the  reports 
of  the  inspectors  and  in  the  books  of  the  imMz^  as  either 
hard-labor  convicts  or  penal  colonists,  and  in  these  classes 
there  is  no  means  of  distinguishing  state  criminals  from 
common  felons.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  however,  that  the 
number  of  political  offenders  is  much  smaller  than  it  is 
generally  supposed  to  be.  From  the  annual  reports  of 
Colonel  Vinokiirof,  inspector  of  exile  transportation  for 
Western  Siberia,  it  appears  that  the  number  of  politicals 
banished  by  administrative  process  from  1879  to  1884  is  as 
follows : 

1879 145 

1880 112 

1881 108 

1882 88 

1883 156 

1884 140 

6  years 749 

This  is  at  an  average  rate  of  125  per  annum.  If  twenty- 
five  more  per  annum  be  added  for  politicals  sent  to  Siberia 
as  hard-labor  convicts  and  penal  colonists,  and  not  included 
in  the  above  table,  the  whole  number  deported  will  make  a 
little  less  than  one  per  cent,  of  the  total  number  of  exiles ; 
which  is  probably  an  approximation  to  the  truth.  This 
6 


82 


SIBERIA 


estimate,  however,  does  not  include  Polish  insurgents,  and 
it  maj^  not  liold  g'ood  for  years  anterior  to  1879.  First  and 
last,  about  100,000  Poles  have  been  banished,  and  first  and 
last,  a  great  many  thousands  of  political  conspirators.  My 
estimate  relates  onlv  to  the  vears  between  1879  and  1885. 


TUE    TIL. MEN    FORWARDING    PRISON. 


As  a  general  rule,  exile  to  Siberia,  under  the  severer 
sentences  and  for  felony,  involves  first,  deprivation  of  all 
civil  rights ;  second,  forfeiture  of  all  property,  which,  upon 
the  conviction  of  the  criminal,  descends  to  his  heirs  as  if 
he  were  dead ;  and  third,  severance  of  all  family  relations, 
unless  the  criminal's  family  voluntarily  accompanies  him 
to  his  place  of  exile.     If  a  prisoner's  wife  and  children 


THE   TIUMEN    FORWARDING   PRISON  83 

wish  to  go  with  him,  they  are  allowed  to  do  so,  and  are 
furnished  by  the  Government  with  transportation;  but  if 
not,  the  authority  of  the  criminal  over  his  family  ceases 
with  his  exile,  and  his  wife  is  at  liberty  to  marry  again 
precisely  as  if  he  were  dead. 

Exiles  of  all  classes  are  now  brought  from  Kazan  to  Tin- 
men either  in  convict  railway  trains  or  in  convict  barges. 
The  route  is  precisely  the  same  one  that  we  followed,  viz., 
down  the  Volga  and  up  the  Kama  by  steamer  to  Perm, 
and  thence  across  the  mountains  of  the  Ural  to  Ekaterin- 
burg and  Tinmen  by  rail.  At  Tinmen  all  exiles  go  into 
the  Tinmen  forwarding  prison,  and  lie  there,  on  an 
average,  about  two  weeks.  They  are  then  sent  in  convict 
barges  down  the  Irtish  and  up  the  Ob  to  the  city  of 
Tomsk. 

After  our  arrest  in  Perm  for  merely  looking  at  the  out- 
side of  a  prison,  we  naturally  felt  some  doubt  as  to  the 
result  of  an  application  for  leave  to  inspect  the  forwarding 
prison  of  Tinmen ;  but  upon  presenting  my  letters  of  intro- 
duction to  Mr.  Boris  Krasin,  the  isiwdvnik  or  chief  police 
officer  of  the  district,  I  was  received  with  a  cordiality  that 
was  as  pleasant  as  it  was  unexpected.  Mr.  Krasin  invited 
us  to  lunch,  said  that  he  had  already  been  informed  by 
private  and  official  letters  from  St.  Petersburg  of  our  pro- 
jected journey  through  Siberia,  and  that  he  would  gladly 
be  of  service  to  us  in  any  way  possible.  He  granted  with- 
out hesitation  my  request  to  be  allowed  to  visit  the  for- 
warding prison,  and  promised  to  go  thither  with  us  on  the 
following  day.  We  would  find  the  prison,  he  said,  greatly 
overcrowded  and  in  bad  sanitary  condition;  but,  such  as 
it  was,  we  should  see  it. 

Mr.  Krasin  was  unfortunately  taken  sick  Monday,  but, 
mindful  of  his  promise,  he  sent  us  on  Tuesday  a  note  of  in- 
troduction to  the  warden  which  he  said  would  admit  us  to 
the  prison  ;  and  about  ten  o'clock  Wednesday  morning,  ac- 
companied by  Mr.  Ignatof,  a  former  member  of  the  prison 


84  SIBERIA 

committee,  we  presented  ourselves  at  the  gate.  The  Tinmen 
forwarding-  prison  is  a  rectanguhir  three-story  brick  building, 
75  feet  in  length  by  40  or  50  in  width,  covered  with  white 
stucco  and  roofed  with  painted  tin.  It  is  situated  in  a  large 
yard  formed  by  a  whitewashed  brick  wall  12  or  15  feet  in 
height,  at  each  corner  of  which  stands  a  black-and-white 
zig-zag-barred  sentry-box,  and  along  each  face  of  which 
paces  a  sentry  carrying  a  loaded  Berdan  rifle  witli  fixed 
bayonet.  Against  this  wall,  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the 
gate,  is  a  small  building  used  as  a  prison  office,  and  in  front 
of  it  stands  a  post  surmounted  by  a  small  A-shaped  roof 
under  which  hangs  a  bell.  A  dozen  or  more  girls  and  old 
women  were  sitting  on  the  ground  in  front  of  the  prison 
with  baskets  full  of  black  rye-bread,  cold  meat,  boiled  eggs, 
milk,  and  fish-pies  for  sale  to  the  imprisoned  exiles.  The 
Tinmen  prison  was  originally  built  to  hold  550  prisoners, 
but  was  subsequently  enlarged  by  means  of  detached  bar- 
racks so  that  it  could  accommodate  850.  On  the  day  of  our 
visit,  as  we  were  informed  by  a  small  blackboard  hanging 
beside  the  office  door,  it  contained  1741.  As  we  approached 
the  entrance  we  were  stopped  by  an  armed  sentry,  who, 
upon  being  informed  that  we  desired  admittance,  shouted 
through  a  square  port-hole  in  the  heavy  gate,  "  Star-she-e-e  !" 
(the  usual  call  for  the  officer  of  the  day),  A  corporal  or 
sergeant,  with  a  saber  at  his  side  and  a  Colt's  revolver  in  a 
holster  on  his  hip,  answered  the  summons,  carried  our  note 
to  the  warden,  and  in  a  moment  we  were  admitted  to  the 
prison  yard.  Fifty  or  sixty  exiles  and  convicts  were  walk- 
ing aimlessly  back  and  forth  in  front  of  the  main  prison 
building,  or  sitting  idly  in  groups  here  and  there  on  the 
ground.  They  were  all  dressed  from  head  to  foot  in  a  cos- 
tume of  gray,  consisting  of  a  visorless  Scotch  cap,  a  shirt  and 
trousers  of  coarse  homespun  linen,  and  a  long  gray  overcoat 
with  one  or  two  diamond-shaped  patches  of  black  or  yellow 
cloth  sewn  upon  the  back  between  the  shoulders.  Nearly 
all  of  them  wore  leg-fetters,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  a 


THE   TIUMEN   FORWARDING   PRISON 


85 


THE    COLKT-YARI)    OF    TlIK    TIUMEN    lia-ii.\. 


86  SIBERIA 

peculiar  clinking  of  chains  which  suggested  the  continuous 
jingling  of  innumerable  bunches  of  keys. 

The  lii'st  /idnicra  or  cell  that  we  entered  was  situated  in 
a  one-story  log  barrack  standing  against  the  wall  on  the 
left  of  the  gate,  and  built  evidently  to  receive  the  over- 
flow from  the  crowded  main  building.  The  room  was 
about  35  feet  in  length  by  25  in  width  and  12  feet  high; 
its  walls  of  hewn  logs  were  covered  with  dirty  whitewash ; 
its  rough  plank  floor  was  black  wdth  dried  mud  and  hard- 
trodden  filth ;  and  it  was  lighted  by  three  grated  windows 
looking  out  into  the  prison  yard.  Down  the  center  of  the 
room,  and  occupying  about  half  its  width,  ran  the  sleeping- 
bench — a  wooden  platform  12  feet  wdde  and  30  feet  long, 
supported  at  a  height  of  2  feet  from  the  floor  by  stout 
posts.  Each  longitudinal  half  of  this  low  platform  sloped 
a  little,  roof -wise,  from  the  center,  so  that  when  the  pris- 
oners slept  upon  it  in  two  closely  packed  transverse  rows, 
their  heads  in  the  middle  were  a  few  inches  higher  than 
their  feet  at  the  edges.  These  sleeping-platforms  are  known 
as  ndri,  and  a  Siberian  prison  cell  contains  no  other  furni- 
ture except  a  large  wooden  tub  for  excrement.  The  pris- 
oners have  neither  pillows,  blankets,  nor  bed-clothing,  and 
must  lie  on  these  hard  plank  ndri  with  no  covering  but 
their  overcoats.  As  we  entered  the  cell,  the  convicts,  with 
a  sudden  jingling  of  chains,  sprang  to  their  feet,  removed 
their  caps,  and  stood  silently  in  a  dense  throng  around  the 
ndri.  "  Zdrastvuitye  rebiata  ! "  [How  do  you  do,  boys?] 
said  the  warden.  "  Zdravie  zhelaiem  vashe  vuisoki  blaga- 
rodie"  [We  wash  you  health,  your  high  nobility],  shouted 
a  hundred  voices  in  a  hoarse  chorus.  "  The  prison,"  said 
the  warden,  "is  terribly  overcrowded.  This  cell,  for  exam- 
ple, is  only  35  feet  long  by  25  wide,  and  has  air  space  for 
35,  or  at  most  40  men.  How  many  men  slept  here  last 
night  I"  he  inquired,  turning  to  the  prisoners. 

"A  hundred  and  sixty,  your  high  nobility,"  shouted  half 
a  dozen  hoarse  voices. 


THE   TIUMEN    FORWARDING   PRISON  0/ 

"  You  see  how  it  is,"  said  the  warden,  again  addressing 
me,  "  This  cell  contains  more  than  four  times  the  number 
of  prisoners  that  it  was  intended  to  hold,  and  the  same 
condition  of  things  exists  throughout  the  prison."  I  looked 
around  the  cell.  There  was  practically  no  ventilation  what- 
ever, and  the  air  was  so  poisoned  and  foul  that  I  could 
hardly  force  myself  to  breathe  it.  We  visited  successively 
in  the  yard  six  kdmeras  or  cells  essentially  like  the  first, 
and  found  in  every  one  of  them  three  or  four  times  the 
number  of  prisoners  for  which  it  was  intended,  and  five 
or  six  times  the  number  for  which  it  had  adequate  air 
space.  In  most  of  the  cells  there  was  not  room  enough  on 
the  sleeping-platforms  for  all  of  the  convicts,  and  scores  of 
men  slept  every  night  on  the  foul,  muddy  floors,  under  the 
ndri^  and  in  the  gangways  between  them  and  the  walls. 
Three  or  four  pale,  dejected,  and  apparently  sick  prisoners 
crawled  out  from  under  the  sleeping-platform  in  one  of  the 
cells  as  we  entered. 

From  the  log  barracks  in  the  prison  yard  we  went  into 
the  main  building,  which  contained  the  kitchen,  the  prison 
workshops,  and  the  hospital,  as  well  as  a  large  number  of 
kdmeras^  and  which  was  in  much  worse  sanitary  condition 
than  the  barracks.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  building  through  which 
Mr.  Ignatof — a  former  member  of  the  prison  committee — 
declined  to  accompany  us.  On  each  side  of  the  dark,  damp, 
and  dirty  corridors  were  heavy  wooden  doors,  opening  into 
cells  which  varied  in  size  from  8  feet  by  10  to  10  by  15, 
and  contained  from  half  a  dozen  to  thirty  prisoners.  They 
were  furnished  with  nd}%  like  those  in  the  cells  that  we  had 
already  inspected ;  their  windows  were  small  and  heavily 
grated,  and  no  provision  whatever  had  been  made  for  ven- 
tilation. In  one  of  these  cells  were  eight  or  ten  dvorydne, 
or  "  nobles,"  who  seemed  to  be  educated  men,  and  in  whose 
presence  the  warden  removed  his  hat.  Whether  any  of  them 
were  "  politicals  "  or  not  I  do  not  know^ ;  but  in  this  part  of 
the  prison  the  politicals  were  usually  confined.     The  air  in 


88 


SIBERIA 


MAKING   UP  AS    EXILE    PARTY  IX    THE    TICM^N   PRISON. 


THE   TIUMEN   FORWARDING  PRISON  89 

the  corridors  and  cells,  particularly  in  the  second  story,  was 
indescribably  and  unimaginably  foul.  Every  cubic  foot  of 
it  had  apparently  been  respired  over  and  over  again  until 
it  did  not  contain  an  atom  of  oxygen ;  it  was  laden  with 
fever  germs  from  the  unventilated  hospital  wards,  fetid 
odors  from  diseased  human  lungs  and  unclean  human  bodies, 
and  the  stench  arising  from  unemptied  excrement  buckets 
at  the  ends  of  the  corridors.  I  breathed  ^s  little  as  I  pos- 
sibly could,  but  every  respiration  seemed  to  pollute  me  to 
the  very  soul,  and  I  became  faint  from  nausea  and  lack  of 
oxygen.  It  was  like  trying  to  breathe  in  an  undergi'ound 
hospital-drain.  The  smatritel,  or  warden,  noticing  perhaps 
that  my  face  had  grown  suddenly  pale,  offered  me  his  cigar- 
ette case,  and  said :  "  You  are  not  accustomed  to  prison  air. 
Light  a  cigarette  :  it  will  afford  some  relief,  and  we  will  get 
some  wine  or  vodka  presently  in  the  dispensary."  I  acted 
upon  this  suggestion  and  we  continued  our  investigations. 
The  prison  workshops,  to  which  we  were  next  taken,  con- 
sisted of  two  small  cells  in  the  second  story,  neither  of  them 
more  than  eight  feet  square,  and  neither  of  them  designed 
for  the  use  to  which  it  had  been  put.  In  one,  three  or  f our 
convicts  were  engaged  in  cobbling  shoes,  and  in  the  other 
an  attempt  was  being  made  to  do  a  small  amount  of  car- 
penter's work.  The  workmen,  however,  had  neither  proper 
tools  nor  suitable  appliances,  and  it  seemed  preposterous  to 
call  the  small  cells  which  they  occupied  "workshops." 

We  then  went  to  the  prison  kitchen,  a  dark,  dirty  room  in 
the  basement  of  the  main  building,  where  three  or  four  half- 
naked  men  were  baking  black  rye-bread  in  loaves  about  as 
large  as  milk-pans,  and  boiling  soup  in  huge  iron  kettles  on 
a  sort  of  brick  range.  I  tasted  some  of  the  soup  in  a  gi'easy 
wooden  bowl  which  a  convict  hastily  cleaned  for  me  with  a 
wad  of  dirty  flax,  and  found  it  nutritious  and  good.  The 
bread  was  rather  sour  and  heavy,  but  not  worse  than  that 
prepared  and  eaten  by  Eussian  peasants  generally.  The 
daily  ration  of  the  prisoners  consisted  of  two  and  a  half 


90  SIBERIA 

pounds  of  this  black  broad,  about  six  ounces  of  boiled  meat, 
and  two  or  three  ounces  of  coarsely  ground  barley  or  oats, 
with  a  bowl  of  kras  morning  and  evening  for  drink.' 

After  we  had  examined  the  workshops,  the  kitchen,  and 
most  of  the  kdmeras  in  the  first  and  second  stories,  the 
smatritel  turned  to  me  and  said,  "Do  you  wish  to  go  through 
the  hospital  wards  ? "  "  Certainly,"  I  replied ;  "  we  wish  to  see 
everything  that  there  is  to  be  seen  in  the  prison."  The  war- 
den shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  if  he  could  not  understand  a 
curiosity  which  was  strong  enough  to  take  travelers  into  a 
Siberian  prison  hospital ;  but,  without  making  any  remarks, 
he  led  the  way  up  another  flight  of  stone  steps  to  the  third 
story,  which  was  given  up  entirely  to  the  sick.  The  hospital 
wards,  which  numbered  five  or  six,  were  larger  and  lighter 
than  any  of  the  cells  that  we  had  previously  examined 
in  the  main  building,  but  they  were  wholly  unventilated, 
no  disinfectants  apparently  were  used  in  them,  and  the  air 
was  polluted  to  the  last  possible  degree.  It  did  not  seem  to 
me  that  a  well  man  could  live  there  a  week  without  becom- 
ing infected  with  disease,  and  that  a  sick  man  should  ever 
recover  in  that  awful  atmosphere  was  inconceivable.  In 
each  ward  were  twelve  or  fifteen  small  iron  bedsteads,  set 
with  their  heads  to  the  walls  round  three  sides  of  the  room, 
and  separated  one  from  another  by  about  five  feet  of  space. 
Each  bedstead  was  furnished  with  a  thin  mattress  consist- 
ing of  a  coarse  gray  bed-tick  filled  with  straw,  a  single 
pillow,  and  either  a  gray  blanket  or  a  ragged  quilt.  Mr. 
Frost  thought  that  some  of  the  beds  were  supplied  with 
coarse  gray  linen  sheets  and  pillow-cases,  but  I  did  not 
notice  anything  of  the  kind.  Over  the  head  of  each  bed- 
stead was  a  small  blackboard,  bearing  in  Russian  and  Latin 

1  According    to  the   rei)ort    of    the  to   the   privileged    classes    (including 

inspector  of  exile   transportation  for  politicals)  receive  food  that  costs  the 

1884,  the  cost  to  the  Government  for  the  Government  5  cents  a  day  per  man.    Of 

food  furnished  each  prisoner  in  the  Tiu-  course  the  quality  of  a  daily  ration  that 

Tuen  forwarding  prison  is  'i%  cents  a  costs  onlyS^^  cents  cannot  be  very  high, 
day  (7  kopeks).     Prisoners  belonging 


THE   TIUMEN    FORWAKDING   PRISON  91 

characters  the  name  of  the  prisouer's  disease  and  the  date  of 
his  admission  to  the  liospital.  The  most  common  disorders 
seemed  to  be  scurvy,  typhus  fever,  typhoid  fever,  acute 
bronchitis,  rheumatism,  and  syphilis.  Prisoners  suffering 
from  malignant  typhus  fever  were  isolated  in  a  single  ward; 
but  with  this  exception  no  attempt  apparently  had  been 
made  to  group  the  patients  in  classes  according  to  the  na- 
ture of  their  diseases.  Women  were  separated  from  the  men, 
and  that  was  all.  Never  before  in  my  life  had  I  seen  faces 
so  white,  haggard,  and  ghastly  as  those  that  lay  on  the  gray 
pillows  in  these  hospital  cells.  The  patients,  both  men  and 
women,  seemed  to  be  not  only  desperately  sick,  but  hopeless 
and  heart-broken.  I  could  not  wonder  at  it.  As  I  breathed 
that  heavy,  stifling  atmosphere,  poisoned  with  the  breaths 
of  syphilitic  and  fever-stricken  patients,  loaded  and  satu- 
rated with  the  odor  of  excrement,  disease  germs,  exhalations 
from  unclean  human  bodies,  and  foulness  inconceivable,  it 
seemed  to  me  that  over  the  hospital  doors  should  be  written, 
"All  hope  abandon,  ye  who  enter  here."^ 

After  we  had  gone  through  the  women's  lying-in  ward 
and  the  ward  occupied  by  patients  suffering  from  malig- 
nant typhus  fever,  I  told  the  smatritel  that  I  had  seen 
enough;  all  I  wanted  was  to  get  out  of  doors  where  I 
could  once  more  breathe.  He  conducted  us  to  the  dispen- 
sary on  the  ground  floor,  offered  us  alcoholic  stimulants, 
and  suggested  that  we  allow  ourselves  to  be  sprayed  with 
carbolic  acid  and  water.  We  probably  had  not  been  in 
the  prison  long  enough,  he  said,  to  take  any  infection ;  but 
we  were  unaccustomed  to  prison  air,  the  hospital  was  in 
bad  condition,  we  had  \dsited  the  malignant  typhus  fever 
ward,  and  he  thought  the  measure  that  he  suggested  was 
nothing  more  than  a  proper  precaution.  We  of  course  as- 
sented, and  were  copiously  sprayed  from  head  to  foot  with 

1  Thecostof  themaintenaneeof  each  day.  The  dead  were  buried  at  an  ex- 
patient  in  the  hospital  of  the  Tinmen  pense  of  $1.57  each.  [Report  of  in- 
forwarding  prison  in  1884,  including  spectorof  exile  transportation  for  1884.  J 
food,  medicines,  etc.,  was  27  cents  a 


92  SIBEKIA 

dilute  carbolic  acid,  which,  after  the  foulness  of  the  prison 
atmosphere,  seemed  to  us  almost  as  refreshing  as  spirits  of 
cologne. 

At  last,  having  finished  our  inspection  of  the  main  build- 
ing, we  came  out  into  the  prison  yard,  where  I  drew  a  long, 
deep  breath  of  pure  air  with  the  delicious  sense  of  relief 
that. a  half-di'owned  man  must  feel  when  he  comes  to  the 
surface  of  the  water. 

"How  many  prisoners,"  I  asked  the  warden,  "usually 
die  in  that  hospital  in  the  course  of  the  year!" 

"About  300,"  he  replied.  "  We  have  an  epidemic  of  ty- 
phus almost  every  fall.  What  else  could  you  expect  when 
buildings  that  are  barely  adequate  for  the  accommodation 
of  800  persons  are  made  to  hold  1800  ?  A  prison  so  over- 
crowded cannot  be  kept  clean,  and  as  for  the  air  in  the 
cells,  you  know  now  what  it  is  like.  In  the  fall  it  is  some- 
times much  worse.  During  the  summer  the  windows  can 
be  left  open,  and  some  ventilation  can  be  secured  in  that 
way ;  but  when  the  weather  becomes  cold  and  stormy  the 
windows  must  be  closed,  and  then  there  is  no  ventilation 
at  all.  We  suffer  from  it  as  well  as  the  prisoners.  My 
assistant  has  only  recently  recovered  from  an  attack  of 
typhus  fever  which  kept  him  in  bed  for  six  weeks,  and  he 
caught  the  disease  in  the  prison.  The  local  authorities 
here  have  again  and  again  urged  the  Government  to  make 
adequate  provision  for  the  large  number  of  exiles  crowded 
into  this  prison  during  the  season  of  navigation,  but  thus 
far  nothing  has  been  done  beyond  the  building  of  two  log 
barracks." 

The  warden  spoke  naturally  and  frankly,  as  if  the  facts 
that  he  gave  me  were  known  to  everybody  in  Tinmen,  and 
as  if  there  was  no  use  in  trying  to  conceal  them  even  from 
a  foreign  traveler  when  the  latter  had  been  through  the 
prison  and  the  prison  hospital. 

From  the  main  prison  building  we  went  to  the  women's 
prison,  which  was  situated  on  the  other  side  of  the  road  in 


THE   TIUMEN   FORWARDING   PRISON 


93 


COURT-YARD    OF    THE  WOMEN'S    PRISON,  TltTMEN. 


1)4  SIBEEIA 

a  court-yard  formed  by  a  high  stockade  of  closely  set  and 
sharpened  logs.  It  did  not  differ  much  in  external  appear- 
ance from  the  men's  barracks  inside  the  prison-wall,  which 
we  had  already  examined.  The  hdmeyas  viiried  in  size  from 
10  feet  by  VI  to  30  feet  by  45,  and  contained  from  three  to 
forty  women  each.  They  were  all  clean  and  well  lighted, 
the  floors  and  sleeping-platforms  had  been  scrubbed  to  a 
snowy  whiteness,  strips  of  coarse  carpet  had  been  laid  down 
here  and  there  in^the  gangways  between  the  ndri,  and  one 
cell  even  had  potted  plants  in  the  window.  The  women, 
like  the  men,  were  obliged  to  sleep  in  rows  on  the  hard 
platforms  without  pillows  or  blankets,  but  their  cells  were 
not  so  overcrowded  as  were  those  of  the  men,  and  the 
air  was  infinitely  purer.  Most  of  the  women  seemed  to 
belong  to  the  peasant  class;  many  of  them  were  accom- 
panied by  children,  and  I  saw  very  few  hard  or  vicious 
faces. 

From  the  women's  prison  we  went  to  the  prison  for  ex- 
iled families,  another  stockaded  log  barrack  about  75  feet 
in  length  which  had  no  cell  partitions  and  which  contained 
nearly  300  men,  women,  and  children.  Here  again  the 
sleeping-platforms  were  overcrowded;  the  air  was  heavy 
and  foul ;  dozens  of  children  were  crying  from  hunger  or 
wretchedness ;  and  the  men  and  women  looked  tired,  sleep- 
less, and  dejected.  None  of  the  women  in  this  barrack 
were  criminals.  All  were  voluntarily  going  into  banish- 
ment with  their  criminal  husbands,  and  most  of  them  were 
destined  for  points  in  Western  Siberia. 

About  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  after  having  made 
as  thorough  an  examination  as  possible  of  all  the  prison 
buildings,  Mr.  Frost  and  I  went  with  Mr.  Ignatof  to  lunch. 
Knowing  that  our  host  was  the  contractor  for  the  trans- 
portation of  exiles  eastward  by  barge,  and  that  he  had 
been  a  prominent  member  of  the  Tiumen  prison  commit- 
tee, I  asked  him  if  the  Government  in  St.  Petersburg  was 
aware  of  the  condition  of  the  Tiumen  forwarding  prison. 


THE   TIUMEN    FOKWAKDING   PRISON  95 

and  of  the  sickness  and  misery  in  which  it  resulted.  He 
replied  in  the  affirmative.  The  local  authorities,  the  prison 
committee,  and  the  inspector  of  exile  transportation  for 
Western  Siberia  had  reported  upon  the  condition  of  the 
Tiumen  prison,  he  said,  every  year;  but  the  case  of  that 
prison  was  by  no  means  an  exceptional  one.  New  pris- 
ons were  needed  all  over  European  Russia,  as  well  as 
Siberia,  and  the  Government  did  not  yet  feel  able  finan- 
cially to  make  sweeping  prison  reforms,  nor  to  spend 
perhaps  ten  million  rubles  in  the  erection  of  new  prison 
buildings.  The  condition  of  the  Tiumen  prison  was,  he 
admitted,  extremely  bad,  and  he  himself  had  resigned  his 
place  as  a  member  of  the  prison  committee  because  the 
Government  would  not  authorize  the  erection  of  a  new 
building  for  use  as  a  hospital.  The  prison  committee  had 
strongly  recommended  it,  and  when  the  Government  dis- 
approved the  recommendation,  he  resigned. 

In  the  foregoing  pages  I  have  tried  to  describe  the  Tiumen 
forwarding  prison  as  it  appears  to  the  senses ;  I  will  now  de- 
scribe it  as  it  appears  in  the  official  records. 

Colonel  Vinokiirof,  inspector  of  exile  transportation  for 
Western  Siberia,  in  his  annual  report  for  1884  refers  to  it 
as  follows: 

The  Tiumen  forwarding  prison  and  the  two  wooden  buildings 
of  the  former  Hape,  taken  together,  have  not  cubic  air  space  enough 
to  accommodate  more  than  550  persons.  To  these  accommodations 
of  the  prison  proper  there  may  be  added,  in  summer,  two  cold  bar- 
racks [not  warmed  in  any  way],  one  in  the  prison  yard  and  one 
outside.    In  each  of  them  may  be  put  150  persons. 

It  thus  officially  appears  that  the  Tiumen  forwarding  pris- 
on, including  the  log  buildings  that  once  constituted  the 
etape  and  two  unwarmed  wooden  barracks,  cannot  properly 
be  made  to  hold  more  than  850  prisoners.  From  the  table 
quoted  below  it  may  be  seen  how  many  prisoners  these 
buildings  actually  did  hold  during  the  exile  season  from  May 


96 


SIBERIA 


1  to  October  1,  1884.     The  figaires  are  from  the  report  of 
Colonel  Viiiokiirof  above  cited. 


1884. 
The  prison  populatiou  was 

300 

3')0 

400 

450 

500 

550 

600 

650 

700 

750 

800 

850 

900 

950 

1000 

1050 

1100 

1150 

1200 

1250 

1300 

1350 

1450 

1500 

1650 


lu 

May, 
Days. 


In 
Juue, 
Days. 


In 
July, 
Days. 


In 

AufTUst, 
Days. 


In 

Sept., 
Days. 


Total, 
Days. 


321 


291 


31 


31 


2 
2 
7 
7 
3 
2 
11 
3 
5 
11 
8 

13 

11 

5 

12 

10 

15 

3 

6 

5 

5 

2 

2 

2 

1 


30       153 


From  this  table  it  appears  that  the  prison  began  to  be 
overcrowded  in  May,  almost  as  soon  as  the  great  annual 
flood  of  exiles  began  to  pour  into  it  from  European  Russia. 
It  was  crowded  beyond  its  normal  capacity  24  days  in  May, 
17  days  in  June,  20  days  in  July,  and  18  days  in  August ; 
and  at  the  time  of  the  greatest  congestion,  just  before  the 
opening  of  the  season  of  navigation  on  the  river  Ob,  it  held 
almost  twice  the  number  of  prisoners  for  which  it  was  in- 
tended. 

1  Error  in  original  report.   One  day  has  been  put  into  May  that  belongs  in  June. 


THE   TIUMEN   FORWAKDING   PRISON 


97 


The  natural  result  of  such  overcrowding  as  this,  in  old 
buildings,  not  properly  warmed,  ventilated,  or  drained,  is 
an  extremely  high  death-rate.  The  following  table  of  sick- 
ness and  mortality  is  from  the  annual  report  of  the  inspec- 
tor of  exile  transportation  for  the  year  1885. 

HOSPITAL  RECORD  OF  TIUMEN  FORWARDING  PRISON. 


1885.    Month. 


Average 

daily 
number  of 
prisoners. 


January i  705.2 

February |  668.4 

March I  670 

April i  823.1 

May 1200 

June 1278.6 

July 963.5 

August 431.3 

September 346.6 

October 682.8 

Noveiuber 964 

December 709 


Average  daily  number  of  prisoners  for  the  year,  786.     Total  number  of  deaths, 
182.     Death  rate,  23.1  per  cent. 

The  significance  of  the  figures  in  the  foregoing  table  will 
become  apparent  if  the  reader  will  take  into  consideration 
the  fact  that  the  average  death-rate  in  English  towns  is 
from  1.9  to  2.5  per  cent.  Even  in  the  most  benighted  and 
unheathful  parts  of  Siberia,  where  there  are  no  physicians, 
where  the  peasants  are  densely  ignorant,  and  where  no 
attention  whatever  is  paid  to  the  laws  of  health,  the  death- 
rate  rarely  exceeds  6  per  cent.  In  the  Tinmen  forwarding 
prison  in  1885  it  was  23.1  per  cent.  Nor  was  the  year  1885 
an  exceptional  year  in  the  sense  of  being  worse  than  usual. 

1  Error  in  original  report.     Should  be  11.3. 


98 


SIBERIA 


On  the  contrary,  that  year,  regarded  from  tlie  point  of  view 
of  vital  statistics,  seems  to  have  been  a  better  one  than 
usual.  Below  will  be  found  another  table,  also  taken  from 
the  annual  report  of  the  inspector  of  exile  transportation, 
containing  statistics  of  sickness  and  death  in  the  same 
prison  for  the  year  1884. 

HOSPITAL  RECORD  OF  TIUMfiN  FORWARDING  PRISON. 


1884.    Month. 


January  . 
February 
INIarch  .  . 
April  .  . 
May  .  .  . 
June  .  . 
July  .  .  . 
August  . 
September 
October  . 
November 
December 


Average 

daily 

number  of 

prisoners. 


552.3 
543.4 
553 

575.8 
1105 
989.5 
978 
938 
521 
472 
771 
899 


Average 

daily 
niunber 

in 
hospital. 


Percent. 


64.3 

62.7 

50 

37 

48 
53.2 
58.8 
68.2 
43 
58.4 
75 
129 


11.8 
11.5 

9 

6.4 

4.3 

5.4 

6 

7.3 

8 
12.3 

9.8 
14.3 


Deaths. 


13 

3 

4 

5 

7 

26 

39 

48 

16 

9 

11 

38 


Average  daily  number  of  prisoners  for  the  year,  741.     Total  number  of  deaths, 
219.    Death  rate,  29.5  per  cent. 

Such  an  annual  death-rate  as  this  is  not  to  be  found,  I 
believe,  outside  the  Russian  empire,  in  all  the  civilized 
world.  In  the  prisons  of  France  the  average  death-rate  is 
about  3.8  per  cent.,  in  the  prisons  of  Austria  3.5  per  cent.,  in 
the  prisons  of  Belgium  and  Denmark  1.8  per  cent.,  in  the 
prisons  of  the  United  States  1.7  to  2  per  cent.,  and  in  the 
prisons  of  England  1.4  per  cent.  In  the' Tinmen  forward- 
ing prison  the  average  death-rate  was  29.5  per  cent.,  or 
almost  300  per  thousand. 


THE   TIUMEN   FORWARDING   PRISON 


99 


But  the  mortality  in  the  Tiumeu  prison  has  been,  at 
times,  even  greater  than  this.  Below  will  be  found  a  table 
that  I  have  compiled  from  the  annual  reports  of  the  inspec- 
tors of  exile  transportation  for.  the  eleven-year  period  from 
the  1st  of  January,  1876,  to  the  1st  of  January,  1887/ 


DEATH-RATE    IN    TIUMEN    FORWARDING  PRISON 

FOR   ELEVEN-YEAR   PERIOD   FROM   1876   TO    1886   INCLUSm:. 


Year. 


Whole  number'   ^Y*"?®® 

of  prisoners  ^  ^'  '^    ^ 

-„      number  of 

for  year. 

pnsoners. 


Whole 
number 

of 
deaths. 


Percentage 

of 

deaths. 


1876 20,482 

1877 \  19,042 

1878 I  19,972 

1879 I  20,174 


1880 
1881 
1882 

1883 
1884 
1885 
1886 


19,975 
19,063 
18,580 
22,010 
21,014 
19,250 
19,016 


813 
756 
793 
801 
793 
757 
738 
874 
834 
764 
755 


284 

279 

329 

354 

256 

219 

175 

311 

2242 

182 

254 


34.9 
36.9 
41.4 
44.1 
32.2 
29.9 
23.7 
35.5 
26.8 
23.8 
33.6 


From  the  above  table  it  appears  that,  in  the  course  of  the 
eleven-year  period  from  1876  to  1886  inclusive,  the  death- 
rate  in  the  Tinmen  forwarding  prison  ranged  from  23.7  per 
cent,  to  44.1  per  cent. ;  and  that  in  seven  years  out  of  the 
eleven  it  was  higher  than  30  per  cent.  This  would  com- 
pletely annihilate  a  fixed  population  in  from  two  and  a  half 
to  four  years.     The  record  of  our  convict  camps,  and  the 


1  The  average  daily  number  of  prison- 
ers IS  computed  from  the  total  annual 
number  upon  the  basis  of  14 1^  days' 
detention  for  every  prisoner.  This  is 
not  absolutely  correct,  but  the  error,  as 
may  be  seen  by  comparison  with  the 


foregoing  tables,  is  not  great  enough  to 
make  any  material  difference. 

2  As  regards  this  number  there  is  a 
discrepancy  in  the  original  report  which 
I  am  unable  to  rectify.  In  one  table  it 
is  given  as  219,  in  the  other  224. 


100  SIBERIA 

history  of  our  leased-eoiivict  system  in  North  Carolina, 
Tennessee,  Mississippi,  and  Louisiana  —  shocking  and 
shameful  as  that  record  is — cannot  parallel  this  rate  of 
mortality.  According  to  Mr.  Cable,  whose  researches  in  the 
held  of  leased-convict  labor  are  well  known,  the  annual  death- 
rate  amongst  leased  convicts  working  on  railroads  in  North 
Carolina  in  1879  was  a  little  less  than  11.5  per  cent. — a 
death-rate,  he  remarks,  higher  than  that  of  the  city  of  New 
Orleans  during  the  great  epidemic  of  yellow  fever  in  1853. 
And  yet  this  rate  is  only  a  quarter  as  high  as  the  death- 
rate  in  the  Tinmen  forwarding  prison  that  very  same  year 
of  1879. 

It  has  been  said  to  me  repeatedly,  since  the  publication 
of  my  magazine  articles  upon  this  sul^ject,  that  "  there  are 
prisons  in  America  as  bad  as  any  that  you  have  described 
in  Russia."  This  remark  has  been  made  to  me  even  by 
American  prison  othcials.  I  should  like  to  know  in  what 
part  of  the  United  States  such  prisons  are  situated.  Some 
American  prisons,  I  know,  are  bad  enough,  and  I  have  no 
desire  to  excuse  or  palliate  their  evils ;  but  when  an  Ameri- 
can says  that  they  are  as  bad  as  the  Tinmen  forwarding 
prison,  he  does  not  know,  or  does  not  appreciate,  the  state 
of  affairs  in  the  latter. 

In  the  year  1885  Dr.  P.  D.  Sims,  chairman  of  the  prison 
committee  of  the  Tennessee  State  Board  of  Health,  made  a 
report  to  the  president  of  that  board  upon  the  condition  of 
the  convicts  in  the  Tennessee  State  prisons  under  the  so- 
called  "  lease  system."  In  this  report  he  showed  that  among 
the  prisoners  in  the  branch  j^risons  at  Coal  Creek  and  Tracy 
City  the  death-rate  ranged  from  10  to  14  per  cent,  per  an- 
num, or  from  105  to  147  per  annum  per  thousand.  After 
quoting  the  statistics  in  detail  he  said : 

Before  these  figures  humanity  stands  aghast  and  our  boasted 
civihzation  must  hide  her  face  in  shame.  We  are  appalled  at  their 
enormity.  We  fain  would  throw  over  them  the  mantle  of  eternal 
oblivion  and  forever  hide  them  from  the  e:aze  of  the  civilized 


THE   TIUMEN   FORWAEDING   PRISON  101 

world ;  but  we  must  not.  They  are  our  own  published  records, 
made  by  ourselves  for  ourselves.  The  once  proud  State  of  Tennes- 
see, chivalrous  and  public-spirited,  stands  to-day  before  the  world 
a  self-convicted  murderer ;  and  her  victims  are  her  own  sons  and 
daughters.  Prison  mortality  should  run  from  8  to  25  per  thousand 
per  annum,  whereas  ours  has  reached  the  startling  height  of  147 
per  thousand  per  annum.  If  by  a  humane  and  well-regulated  penal 
system  prison  mortality  is  reduced  to  an  average  of  15  per  thousand 
per  annum,  then  the  system  that  shows  a  mortality  of  147  per  thou- 
sand is  responsible  for  the  murder  of  132  per  annum  of  every 
thousand  in  its  charge.^ 

I  would  ask  the  gentlemen  who  think  that  some  Ameri- 
can prisons  are  as  bad  as  any  that  I  have  described,  to 
compare  the  Coal  Creek  and  Tracy  City  statistics  with  the 
records  of  Tinmen.  Dr.  Sims  declares  that  "  before  a  death- 
rate  of  147  per  thousand  per  annum  humanity  stands 
aghast."  What,  then,  must  be  said  of  a  death-rate  that 
ranges  from  230  per  thousand  to  440  per  thousand  ?  Be- 
tween 1876  and  1887  there  was  not  a  single  year  in  which 
the  death-rate  in  the  Tinmen  forwarding  prison  was  not 
more  than  double  that  in  the  Tennessee  prisons,  and  in  1878 
and  1879  it  was  more  than  three  times  the  Tennessee  rate. 
If,  to  adopt  the  metaphor  of  the  Chattanooga  surgeon, 
"  Civilization  hides  her  face  in  shame  "  at  a  death-rate  of  147 
per  thousand,  by  what  gesture  or  attitude  shall  she  express 
her  humiliation  when  shown  in  Russia  a  death-rate  of  440 
per  thousand  ? 

It  may  be  said  that  the  cases  are  not  parallel,  for  the  rea- 
son that  the  population  of  the  Tinmen  forwarding  prison  is 
composed  largely  of  young  children,  who,  by  reason  of 
their  tender  age,  are  more  susceptible  to  disease  and  more 
likely  to  die  than  the  mature  convicts  in  Tennessee.  This 
may  be  a  good  and  sufficient  explanation  of  a  part  of  the 
difference  between  a  death-rate  of  147  and  a  death-rate  of 

1  Report  of  Dr.  p.  D.  Sims,  chairman    tanooga,  January  6,   1885.      Xashville 
of  the  prison  committee  of  the  Tennes-     Weekly  Banner,  January  29,  1885. 
see  State  Board  of  Health,  dated  Chat- 


102  SIBERIA 

440 ;  but  it  is  Ijy  no  means  a  good  defense  against  the 
charge  of  inhumanity.  If  it  be  cruel  and  shameful  to  kill 
grown  criminals  by  subjecting  them  to  murderous  sanitary 
conditions,  how  much  more  cruel  and  shameful  it  is  to  put 
to  death  in  that  way  innocent  children,  whose  only  crime  is 
their  helpless  dependence  upon  exiled  parents. 

Eeaders  who  are  familiar  with  the  constant  relation  that 
exists  between  a  high  death-rate  on  the  one  hand,  and  over- 
crowding, filth,  foul  air,  bad  food,  and  bad  sanitary  conditions 
generally  on  the  other,  will  not,  I  think,  regard  my  descrip- 
tion of  the  Tinmen  forwarding  prison  as  exaggerated,  when 
they  read  it  in  the  light  of  an  officially  admitted  death-rate 
ranging  from  23  to  44  per  cent. — a  death-rate  which,  to  adopt 
the  words  of  Mr.  Cable,  "exceeds  that  of  any  pestilence 
that  ever  fell  on«.Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages." 


CHAPTER  Y 

A   SIBERIAN   CONVICT   BARGE 

THE  town  of  Tiumen,  and  the  province  of  Tobolsk  in 
which  it  is  situated,  have  much  more  commercial 
importance  than  is  generally  supposed.  Siberian  cold  and 
Siberian  desolation  have  been  so  much  talked  and  written 
about,  and  have  been  brought  so  forcibly  to  the  attention 
of  the  world  by  the  terrible  experience  of  De  Long  and  the 
survivors  of  the  Jeamietfe,  that  nine  readers  out  of  ten,  in 
forming  a  conception  of  the  country,  give  undue  prominence 
to  its  arctic  side  and  its  winter  aspect.  When,  in  conver- 
sation since  my  return,  I  have  happened  to  refer  to  Siberian 
tobacco,  Siberian  orchids,  or  Siberian  camels,  my  remarks 
have  even  been  received  with  smiles  of  incredulity.  I  do 
not  know  any  better  way  to  overthrow  the  erroneous  popular 
conception  of  Siberia  than  to  assail  it  with  facts  and  statis- 
tics, even  at  the  risk  of  being  wearisome.  I  will  therefore 
say,  briefly,  that  the  province  of  Tobolsk,  which  is  the  part 
of  Siberia  with  which  a  traveler  from  Europe  first  becomes 
acquainted,  extends  from  the  coast  of  the  arctic  ocean  to  the 
sun-scorched  steppes  of  Semipalatinsk  and  Akmolinsk,  and 
from  the  mountains  of  the  Ural  to  the  boundary  line  of 
Yeniseisk  and  Tomsk.  It  has  an  area  of  590,000  square 
miles  and  includes  27,000,000  acres  of  arable  land.  It  con- 
tains 8  towns  of  from  3000  to  20,000  inhabitants,  and  its 
total  population  exceeds  1,200,000.  In  the  last  year  for 
which  I  was  able  to  get  statistics  the  province  produced 
30,044,880  bushels  of  grain  and  3,778,230  bushels  of  potatoes, 


104 


SIBERIA 


and  eoiitaiuod  2,647,000  head  of  live  stock.  It  sends  annually 
to  European  Russia  enormous  quantities  of  raw  products, 
such  as  hides,  tallow,  bristles,  fui-s,  birds'  skins,  flax,  and 
hemp  ;  it  forwards  more  than  2,000,000  pounds  of  butter  to 


Constantinople  by  way  of  Rastof,  on  the  Don  ;  and  there  is 
held  within  its  limits,  at  Irbit,  a  commercial  fair  whose  trans- 
actions amount  annually  to  35,000,000  rubles  ($17,500,000). 
The  manufacturing  industries  of  the  province,  although  still 
in  their  infancy,  furnish  employment  to  6252  persons  and 


A   SIBERIAN    CONVICT   BARGE  105 

put  annually  upon  the  market  goods  to  the  value  of  8,517,000 
rubles.  Besides  the  workmen  employed  in  the  regular 
manufacturing  establishments,  the  urban  population  in- 
cludes 27,000  mechanics  and  skilled  laborers.  Cottage  indus- 
tries are  carried  on  extensively  throughout  the  province,  and 
produce  annually,  among  other  things,  50,000  rugs  and  car- 
pets ;  1,500,000  fathoms  of  fish  netting ;  2,140,000  yards  of 
linen  cloth ;  50,000  barrels ;  70,000  telegas  and  sleighs ; 
leather  manufactures  to  the  value  of  2,500,000  rubles ;  and 
quantities  of  dressed  furs,  stockings,  mittens,  belts,  scarfs, 
laces,  and  ornamented  towels  and  sheets.  The  quantity  of 
fish  caught  annually  along  the  Ob  and  its  tributaries  is  es- 
timated at  8000  tons,  and  salt  to  the  amount  of  3000  tons  is 
used  in  curing  it.  Tiumen,  which  is  the  most  important 
town  in  the  province,  stands  on  a  navigable  branch  of  the 
vast  Ob  river  system,  through  which  it  has  steam  communi- 
cation with  the  greater  part  of  Western  Siberia,  from  Semi- 
palatinsk  and  Tomsk  to  the  shores  of  the  arctic  ocean. 
Fifty-eight  steamers  ply  on  the  Ob  and  its  tributaries,  most 
of  them  between  Tomsk  and  Tiumen,  and  through  the  latter 
city  is  transported  annually  merchandise  to  the  value  of 
thirty  or  forty  million  rubles.  Sixteen  million  rubles''  worth 
of  Siberian  products  are  brought  every  year  to  the  Mzhni 
Novgorod  fair,  and  in  exchange  for  this  mass  of  raw  material 
European  Eussia  sends  annually  to  Siberia  nearly  300,000 
tons  of  manufactured  goods. 

It  cannot,  I  think,  be  contended  that  a  country  which 
furnishes  such  statistics  as  these  is  an  arctic  desert  or  an 
uninhabited  waste. 

On  the  next  day  after  our  arrival  in  Tiumen  the  weather 
furnished  us  with  convincing  evidence  of  the  fact  that  the 
Siberian  summer  climate,  although  sometimes  as  mild  and 
delightful  as  that  of  California,  is  fickle  and  untrustworthy. 
During  the  night  the  wind  changed  suddenly  to  the  north- 
east, and  a  furious  storm  of  cold,  driving  rain  swept  down 
across  the  tundras  from  the  coast  of  the  arctic  ocean,  turning 


106 


SIBERIA 


tlie  unpaved  and  ur.sewerod  streets  of  tlie  city  to  lakes  of 
liquid  nuul,  and  making  it  practically  impossible  to  go  out 
of  doors.  We  succeeded,  with  the  aid  of  a  drosJiky,  in  get- 
ting to  the  post-office  and  back,  and  devoted  the  remainder 
of  the  day  to  reading,  and  to  writing  letters.  On  Saturday, 
during  lulls  in  the  storm,  we  walked  and  rode  about  the  city, 
but  saw  little  to  reward  us  for  our  trouble.  The  muddy, 
unpaved  streets  did  not  differ  much  in  appearance  from  the 
streets  of  the  villages  through  which  we  had  passed,  except 

that  some  of  them 
had  plank  sidewalks, 
and  the  unpainted 
log  houses  with  high, 
steep,  pyramidal 
roofs  were  larger  and 
more  pretentious. 
There  was  the  same 
absence  of  trees, 
shrubbery,  front 
yards  and  front  doors  which  we  had  noticed  in  all  of  the 
Siberian  villages  ;  and  but  for  the  white- walled  and  green- 
domed  churches,  which  gave  it  a  certain  air  of  pictur- 
esqueness,  the  town  would  have  been  commonplace  and 
uninteresting. 

The  only  letter  of  introduction  we  had  to  deliver  in  Tin- 
men was  from  a  Russian  gentleman  in  St.  Petersburg  to 
Mr.  Slovtsof,  director  of  the  redlnoi  ticJiilishche,  an  in- 
stitution that  is  known  in  Germany  as  a  "real  schule." 
Saturday  afternoon,  the  storm  having  broken,  we  presented 
this  letter  and  were  received  by  Mr.  Slovtsof  with  gi'eat 
cordiality.  The  educational  institution  over  which  he  pre- 
sides is  a  scientific  and  technical  school  similar  in  plan  to 
the  Institute  of  Technology  in  Boston.  It  occupies  the 
largest  and  finest  edifice  in  the  city — a  substantial  two- 
story  structure  of  white-stuccoed  brick,  nearly  twice  as  large 
as  the  Executive  Mansion  in  Washington.  This  building  was 


THE   " KEAL 


A   SIBERIAN    CONVICT   BARGE 


107 


erected  and  equipped  at  a  cost  of  $85,000  by  one  of  Tiu- 
men's  wealthy  and  public-spirited  merchants,  and  was  then 
presented  to  the  city  as  a  gift.  One  would  hardly  expect 
to  find  such  a  school  in  European  Russia,  to  say  nothing 
of  Siberia,  and  indeed  one  might  look  far  without  finding 
such  a  school  even  in  the  United  States.  It  has  a  mechan- 
ical department,  with  a  steam  engine,  lathes,  and  tools  of 
all  kinds;  a  department  of  physics,  with  fine  apparatus, 
including  even  the  Bell,  Edison,  and  Dolbear  telephones 
and  the  phonogi'aph;  a  chemical  laboratory,  with  a  more 
complete  equipment  than  I  have  ever  seen,  except  in  the 
Boston  Institute  of  Technology ;  a  department  of  art  and 
mechanical  di'awing;  a  good  library,  and  an  excellent  mu- 
seum—  the  latter  containing,  among  other  things,  900 
species  of  wild  flowers  collected  in  the  vicinity  of  the  city. 
It  is,  in  short,  a  school  that  would  be  in  the  highest  degree 
creditable  to  any  city  of  similar  size  in  the  United  States. 

From  Mr.  Slovtsof  we  obtained  the  address  of  Mr. 
Jacob  R.  Wardropper,  a  Scotch  gentleman  who  had 
for  twenty  years  or  more  been  engaged  in  business  in 
Siberia;  and  feeling  sure  that  Mr. 
"Wardropper  would  be  glad  to  see 
anj  one  from  the  western  world, 
we  ventured  to  call  upon  him 
without  the  formality  of  an  in- 
troduction. We  were  received  by 
the  whole  family  with  the  most 
warm-hearted  hospitality,  and  their 
house  was  made  almost  a  home  to 
us  during  the  remainder  of  our 
stay  in  the  city. 

On  the  morning  after  our  first  visit  to  the  Tinmen  for- 
warding prison  we  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  de- 
parture of  a  marching  exile  party.  We  went  to  the  prison 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  getting  a  sketch  or  a  photograph 
of  it,  but  happened  to  be  just  in  time  to  see  a  party  of  360 


VOLUNTARY  EXILES.' 
(DOBROVOLNI.) 


108  SIBERIA 

men,  women,  and  children  set  out  on  foot  for  Yalutorfsk. 
Our  attention  was  first  attracted  by  a  great  crowd  of  people 
standing  in  the  street  outside  the  prison  wall.  As  we  drew 
nearer,  the  crowd  resolved  itself  into  a  hundred  or  more 
women  and  children  in  bright-colored  calico  gowns,  with 
kerchiefs  over  their  heads,  and  about  250  men  dressed  in 
the  gray  exile  costume,  all  standing  close  together  in  a 
dense  throng,  surrounded  by  a  cordon  of  soldiers.  In  the 
street  near  them  w^ere  fifteen  or  twenty  one-horse  telerjas, 
or  small  four-wheeled  wagons,  some  piled  high  with  the 
gray  bags  in  which  exiles  carry  their  spare  clothing  and 
j)ersonal  property,  and  some  filled  with  men,  women,  and 
children,  who,  by  reason  of  age,  weakness,  or  infirmity, 
could  not  walk.  It  seemed  surprising  to  me  that  anybody 
should  be  able  to  walk  after  a  week's  confinement  in  that 
prison.  The  air  was  filled  with  a  continuous  hum  of  voices 
as  the  exiles  talked  eagerly  with  one  another,  and  occasion- 
ally we  could  hear  the  wail  of  a  sick  child  from  one  of  the 
feMgas,  or  a  faint  jingle  of  chains  as  some  of  the  men,  tired 
of  standing,  changed  their  positions  or  threw  themselves 
on  the  ground.  The  officer  in  charge  of  the  party,  a  heav- 
ily built  man  with  yellowish  side-whiskers,  light-blue  eyes, 
and  a  hard,  unsympathetic  face,  stood  near  the  telegas, 
surrounded  by  women  and  children,  who  were  begging 
him  to  let  them  ride. 

"  Please  put  my  little  girl  in  a  wagon,"  said  one  pale-faced 
woman,  as  I  approached  the  group.  "  She  is  n't  ten  years 
old  and  she  has  a  lame  ankle ;  she  can  never  walk  thirty 
verstsJ'^ 

"What  's  the  matter  with  her  ankle?"  inquired  the 
officer  impatiently,  looking  down  at  the  child's  thin  bare 
feet  and  legs. 

"  I  don't  know ;  she  says  it  hurts  her,"  replied  the  mother. 
"  Please  let  her  ride,  for  God's  sake ! " 

"  She  can't  ride,  I  tell  you  —  there  's  no  room,"  said  the 
officer,  still  more  impatiently.     "I  don't  believe  there  's 


A   SIBERIAN    CONVICT    BARGE 


109 


A    MAi;(  lllNi;    EXII.K    PARTY. 


110  SIBERIA 

anything  the  matter  with  her  ankle,  and  anybody  can  see 
that  she  's  more  than  twelve  years  old." ' 

"  Stupai ! "  [Move  on !],  he  said  sternly  to  the  child ; 
"  you  can  pick  flowers  better  if  you  walk." 

The  mother  and  the  child  shrank  away  without  a  word, 
and  the  officer,  to  escape  further  importunities,  shouted  the 
order  to  "  Form  ranks ! "  The  hum  of  conversation  suddenly 
ceased  ;  there  was  a  jingling  of  chains  as  the  prisoners  who 
had  been  lying  on  the  ground  sprang  to  their  feet ;  the  sol- 
diers of  the  guard  shouldered  their  rifles ;  the  exiles  crossed 
themselves  devoutly,  bowing  in  the  direction  of  the  prison 
chapel ;  and  at  the  word  "  March  ! "  the  whole  column  was 
instantly  in  motion.  Three  or  four  Cossacks,  in  dark-green 
uniforms  and  with  rifles  over  their  shoulders,  took  the  lead ; 
a  dense  but  disorderly  throng  of  men  and  women  followed, 
marching  between  thin,  broken  lines  of  soldiers ;  next  came 
the  telegas  with  the  old,  the  sick,  and  the  small  children ; 
then  a  rear-guard  of  half  a  dozen  Cossacks ;  and  finally  four 
or  five  wagons  piled  high  with  gray  bags.  Although  the 
road  was  soft  and  muddy,  in  five  minutes  the  party  was 
out  of  sight.  The  last  sounds  I  heard  were  the  jingling  of 
chains  and  the  shouts  of  the  Cossacks  to  the  children  to 
keep  within  the  lines.  These  exiles  were  nearly  all  persons 
banished  by  Russian  communes,  and  were  destined  for 
towns  and  villages  in  the  southern  part  of  the  province  of 
Tobolsk.- 

Having  witnessed  the  departure  of  one  of  the  marching 
parties,  we  went  down  Saturday  afternoon  to  the  steamer- 
landing  to  see  the  embarkment  of  700  exiles  for  Tomsk. 
Criminals  destined  for  points  in  Eastern  Siberia  are  trans- 
ported from  Tinmen  to  Tomsk  in  convict  barges,  furnished 
for  the  purpose  by  a  wealthy  firm  of  contractors,  and  towed 

1  All   children  twelve  years  of  age  2  i  gjiall  describe  fully  in  a  later  chap- 

and  upward,    without  regard  to   sex,  ter  the  life  of  marching  exile  parties  on 

are  expected  to  march  if  well.     Chil-  the  road.    I  did  not  have  a  favorable 

dren  less  than  twelve  years  of  age  are  opportunity  to  study  it  until  I  reached 

carried  in  rude  one-horse  carts.  Tomsk. 


A   SIBERIAN    CONVICT   BARGE  111 

back  and  forth  by  their  passenger  steamers.  The  contrac- 
tors, at  the  time  of  our  journey  to  Siberia,  were  Kurbatof  and 
Ignatof,  steamboat  proprietors  of  Tiumen.  The  convict 
barges  are  three  in  number,  and  during  the  season  of  navi- 
gation, which  lasts  from  May  until  October,  they  make,  on 
an  average,  six  round  trips  each,  or  eighteen  trips  alto- 
gether. In  1884,  the  first  barge  left  Tiumen  on  the  27th  of 
May  and  the  last  one  reached  Tomsk  on  the  4th  of  October. 
The  voyage  between  the  two  cities  occupies  from  seven  to 
ten  days  according  to  the  season  of  the  year  and  the  stage 
of  the  water.  In  1884,  the  shortest  voyage  was  seven  days 
and  six  hours,  and  the  longest  ten  days  and  nine  hours. 
The  number  of  convicts  and  exiles  transported  by  these 
barges  from  Tiumen  to  Tomsk  in  the  five  years  from  1880 
to  1884  inclusive  was  reported  by  the  inspector  of  exile 
transportation  as  follows. 


Year. 


Received  Delivered 

in  Tiumen.  in  Tomsk. 


1880 10,243 10,269 

1881 10,757 10,462 

1882 10,630 10,245 

1883 10,726 11,049 

1884 10,229 10,692 


Totals  .    .    .  52,585 52,717i 

The  contract  for  the  transportation  of  exiles  from  Tiumen 
to  Tomsk,  which  was  made  with  Kurbatof  &  Ignatof  in 
1882,  provides  that  the  contractors  shall  furnish  three 
barges  large  enough  to  accommodate  600  prisoners  each, 
and  that  such  barges  shall  make  eighteen  trips  between 
terminal  points  in  the  course  of  every  season  of  na\dgation. 
The  contract,  therefore,  requires  the  transportation  of 
10,800  exiles  pei*  annum.  The  average  number  actually 
carried  in  the  five  years  covered  by  the  foregoing  table  was 
10,543  per  annum,  and  at  that  rate  the  average  barge-load 

'  A  few  were  taken  or  left  every  year  at  Tobolsk  and  other  way  places. 


112 


SIBEKIA 


would  be  586  persons.  Owing-,  however,  to  circumstances 
bej'ond  the  control  of  the  contractors  and  the  local  author- 
ities in  Tinmen,  it  becomes  necessary,  at  certain  times,  to 
despatch  the  barges  only  half  loaded,  and  at  other  times  to 
crowd  them  to  the  very  point  of  sutfocation.  In  1884,  for 
example,  the  barge-loads  ranged  from  334  to  797.     The 


A  CONVICT    BARGE. 


FIG.   1.      PLAN    OF    CAGE-DECIv. 


A,  Men's  cage ;  B,  Women's  cage ;  C,  Honpilal  cells  and  disiiensary ; 
D,  OflScers'  (luarters  and  cells  for  privileged  class ;  E,  Cook's  galley. 


FIG.   2.      PLAN    OF    LOWER-DECK. 

F,  Cabin  for  bard-labor  convicts  (men) ;  G,  Cabin  for  exiles  and  penal 
colonists  (men) ;  H,  Women's  cabin;  a,  b,  Nares,  or  sleeping-platforms. 


'  -m^    Lb 


FIG.  3.      TRANSVERSE    SECTION    OF    BARGE. 

D  D,  Deck-bouses  ;  G,  Sleeping-cabin;  a,  b,  Cross-section 
of  sleeping-platforms. 


latter  number  was  probably  more  than  twice  as  great  as 
could  be  comfortably  accommodated  in  a  vessel  of  such 
form  and  dimensions. 

The  convict  barge  which  lay  at  the  Tinmen  steam- 
boat-landing on  Saturday,  June  27th,  and  which  we  were 
permitted  to  inspect,  did  not  differ  much  in  general  appear- 
ance from  an  ordinary  ocean  steamer,  except  that  it  drew 
less  water  and  had  no  rigging.  The  black  iron  hull  was 
about  220  feet  in  length  by  30  in  width,  pierced  by  a  hori- 
zontal line  of  small  rectangular  port-holes  which  opened 
into  the  sleejoing-cabins  on  the  lower  deck.  The  upper 
deck  supported  two  large  yellow  deck-houses  about  75  feet 


A   SIBERIAN   CONVICT   BARGE 


113 


apart,  one  of  which  eontaiued  three  or  four  hospital  wards 
and  a  dispensary,  and  the  other,  quarters  for  the  officers  of 
the  convoy  and  a  few  cells  for  exiles  belonging  to  the  noble 
or  privileged  class.  The  space  between  the  deck-houses  was 
roofed  over  and  inclosed  on  each  side  by  a  coarse  network 
of  heavy  iron  wire,  so  as  to  make  a  cage  30  feet  wide  and 
75  feet  long,  where  the  prisoners  could  walk  and  breathe 
the  fresh  air.  This  cage,  which  is  known  to  the  common- 
criminal  exiles  as  the  "  chicken-coop,"  was  divided  by  a 
network  partition  into  two  compartments  of  unequal  size, 
the  smaller  of  which  was  intended  for  the  women  and 
children  and  the  larger  for  the  men.    Companion-ladders 


AN  EXILE  PARTY  ABOUT  TO  EMBARK. 


led  down  into  the  sleeping  cabins,  of  which  there  were 
three  or  four,  varying  in  length  from  30  to  60  feet, 
with  a  uniform  width  of  30  feet  and  a  height  of  about 
7.  One  of  these  cabins  was  occupied  by  the  women  and 
children,  and  the  others  were  given  up  to  the  men. 
Through  the  center  of  each  cabin  ran  longitudinally  two 
tiers  of  double  sleeping-platforms,  precisely  like  those  in 
the  Tinmen  prison  kdmeras,  upon  which  the  exiles  lay 
athwart-ship  in  four  closely  packed  rows,  with  their  heads 
together  over  the  line  of  the  keel.  Along  each  side  of  the 
barge  ran  two  more  tiers  of  ndri,  upon  which  the  prisoners 
lay  lengthwise  head  to  feet,  in  rows  four  or  five  wide.  A 
reference  to  the  plan  and  section  of  the  barge  will,  I  think, 
render  this  description  of  the  interior  of  the  sleeping- 
cabins  fairly  intelligible.  The  vessel  had  been  thoroughly 
8 


114  SIBERIA 

cleaned  and  disinfected  after  its  return  from  a  previous 
trip  to  Tomsk,  and  the  air  in  the  cabins  was  pure  and 
sweet. 

The  barge  hiy  at  a  floating  landing-stage  of  the  type  with 
which  we  had  become  familiar  on  the  rivers  Volga  and 
Kama,  and  access  to  it  was  gained  by  means  of  a  zigzag 
wooden  bridge  sloping  down  to  it  from  the  high  bank  of 
the  river.  When  we  reached  the  landing,  a  dense  throng 
of  exiles,  about  one-third  of  whom  were  women,  were  stand- 
ing on  the  bank  waiting  to  embark.  They  were  surrounded 
by  a  cordon  of  soldiers,  as  usual,  and  non-commissioned  offi- 
cers were  stationed  at  intervals  of  twenty  or  thirty  feet  on 
the  bridge  leading  down  to  the  landing-stage.  I  persuaded 
Colonel  Vinokiirof,  inspector  of  exile  transportation  for 
Western  Siberia,  to  delay  the  embarkment  a  little,  in  order 
that  we  might  take  photographs  of  the  exiles  and  the  barge. 
As  soon  as  this  had  been  accomplished  the  order  was  given 
to  "Let  them  go  on  board,"  and  the  prisoners,  shouldering 
their  gray  bags,  walked  one  by  one  down  the  sloping  bridge 
to  the  landing-stage.  More  than  three-fourths  of  the  men 
were  in  leg-fetters,  and  for  an  hour  there  was  a  continuous 
clinking  of  chains  as  the  prisoners  passed  me  on  their  way 
to  the  barge.  The  exiles,  although  uniformly  clad  in  gray, 
presented,  from  an  ethnological  point  of  view,  an  extraor- 
dinary diversity  of  types,  having  been  collected  evidently 
from  all  parts  of  the  vast  empire.  There  were  fierce,  wild- 
looking  mountaineers  from  Daghestan  and  Circassia,  con- 
demned to  penal  servitude  for  murders  of  blood-revenge ; 
there  were  Tatars  from  the  lower  Volga,  who  had  been 
sunburned  until  they  were  almost  as  black  as  negroes; 
Turks  from  the  Crimea,  whose  scarlet  fezzes  contrasted 
strangely  with  their  gray  convict  overcoats;  crafty-look- 
ing Jews  from  Podolia,  going  into  exile  for  smuggling ;  and 
finally,  common  peasants  in  great  numbers  from  all  parts 
of  European  Russia.  The  faces  of  the  prisoners  generally 
were  not  as  hard,  vicious,  and  depraved  as  the  faces  of 


A    SIBEKIAN    CONVICT   BARGE 


115 


EXILES    GOING    ON    BOARD    THE    BARGE. 


116 


SIBEKIA 


criuiiiials  in  America.  Many  of  tlioni  wore  pleasant  and 
good-humored,  some  were  fairly  intelligent,  and  even  tlie 
worst  seemed  to  me  stupid  and  brutish  rather  than  savage 


W/'/ZM'/A 


MKN'S    CAGE,   CONVICT    BARGE  — EXILES    BUYING    FOOD. 

or  malignant.  At  last  all  were  on  board ;  the  sliding  doors 
of  the  network  cages  were  closed  and  secured  with  heavy 
padlocks,  and  a  regular  Russian  bazar  opened  on  the  land- 
ing-stage.     Male  and  female  peddlers  to  the  number  of 


A   SIBERIAN    CONVICT   BARGE  117 

forty  or  fifty  were  allowed  to  come  down  to  the  side  of  the 
barge  to  sell  provisions  to  the  prisoners,  most  of  whom 
seemed  to  be  in  possession  of  money.  In  one  place  might 
be  seen  a  half-grown  girl  passing  hard-boiled  eggs  one  by 
one  through  the  interstices  of  the  network;  in  another,  a 
gray-haired  old  woman  was  pouring  milk  through  a  tin 
tube  into  a  tea-pot  held  by  a  convict  on  the  inside  of  the 
cage ;  and  all  along  the  T^arge  men  were  buying  or  bar- 
gaining for  loaves  of  black  rye-bread,  salted  cucumbers, 
pretzels,  and  fish  turnovers.  The  peddlers  seemed  to  have 
perfect  trust  in  the  convicts,  and  often  passed  in  food  to 
them  before  they  had  received  pay  for  it.  The  soldiers 
of  the  guard,  who  were  good-looking,  fresh-faced  young 
fellows,  facilitated  the  buying  and  selling  as  far  as  possi- 
ble by  handing  in  the  provisions  and  handing  out  the 
money,  or  by  opening  the  sliding  doors  for  the  admission 
of  such  bulky  articles  as  loaves  of  bread,  which  could  not 
be  passed  through  the  network. 

While  we  stood  looking  at  this  scene  of  busy  traffic,  a  long- 
haired Russian  priest  in  a  black  gown  and  a  broad-brimmed 
felt  hat  crossed  the  landing-stage  and  entered  one  of  the 
deck-houses,  followed  by  an  acolyte  bearing  his  robes  and  a 
prayer-book.  In  a  few  moments,  having  donned  his  eccle- 
siastical vestments,  he  entered  the  women's  cage,  with  a 
smoking  censer  in  one  hand  and  an  open  book  in  the  other, 
and  began  a  moleben,  or  service  of  prayer.  The  women  all 
joined  devoutly  in  the  supplications,  bowing,  crossing  them- 
selves, kneeling,  and  even  pressing  their  foreheads  to  the 
deck.  The  priest  hurried  through  the  service,  however,  in 
a  perfunctory  manner,  swung  the  censer  back  and  forth  a 
few  times  so  as  to  fill  the  compartment  with  fragrant  smoke, 
and  then  went  into  the  men's  cage.  There  much  less  interest 
seemed  to  be  taken  in  the  services.  The  convicts  and  sol- 
diers removed  their  caps,  but  only  a  few  joined  in  the  prayer, 
and  buying  and  selling  went  on  without  interruption  all 
along  the  side  of  the  barge.     The  deep-voiced  chanting  of 


118 


SIBERIA 


the  priest  niiiig-liiig-  with  the  hii»'h-pitehed  rattle  of  chains,  the 
chaft'eriug  of  pecUUers,  and  the  shontiiig  of  orders  to  soldiers 
on  the  roof  of  the  eag-e  prodneed  a  most  strange  and  incon- 


IN81DE    THE  WOMEN'S    CAGE,   CONVICT    BARGE. 

gruous  effect.  Finally,  the  service  ended,  the  priest  took  off 
his  vestments,  wished  the  commanding  officer  of  the  convoy 
a  pleasant  voyage,  and  returned  to  the  city,  while  Mr.  Frost 
and  I  walked  back  and  forth  on  the  landing-stage  studying 
the  faces  of  the  prisoners.     With  few  exceptions  the  latter 


A   SIBERIAN    CONVICT   BARGE 


11!) 


seemed  cheerful  and  happy,  aud  in  all  parts  of  the  cage  we 
could  hear  laughter,  joking,  and  animated  conversation. 
Mr.  Frost  finaDy  began  making  sketches  in  his  note-book  of 
some  of  the  more  striking  of  the  convict  types  on  the  other 
side  of  the  network.  This  soon  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  prisoners,  and  amidst  great  laughter  and  merriment  they 
began  dragging  forward  and  arranging,  in  what  they  re- 
garded as  artistic  poses,  the  convicts  whom  they  thought 
most  worthy  of  an  artist's  pencil.    Having  selected  a  subject, 


V  CONVICT    TYPES.  \  " 

they  would  place  him  in  all  sorts  of  studiously  careless  and 
negligent  attitudes,  comb  and  arrange  the  long  hair  on  the 
unshaven  side  of  his  head,  try  the  effect  of  a  red  fez  or  an 
embroidered  Tatar  cap,  and  then  shout  suggestions  and 
directions  to  the  artist.  This  arranging  of  figures  and 
groups  for  Mr.  Frost  to  draw  seemed  to  afford  them  great 
amusement,  and  was  accompanied  with  as  much  joking  and 
laughter  as  if  they  were  school-boys  off  for  a  picnic, 
instead  of  criminals   bound   for   the   mines. 

At  last,  just  after  sunset,  a  steamer  made  fast  to  the 
barge,  the  order  was  given  to  cast  off  the  lines,  the  exiles 
all  crow^ded  against  the  network  to  take  a  parting  look  at 
Tinmen,  and  the  gi-eat  black-and-yellow  floating  prison 
moved  slowly  out  into  the  stream  and  began  its  long  voyage 
to  Tomsk. 


CHAPTER  VI 

FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   POST   TRAVEL 

^I"^HE  traveler  who  desires  to  go  from  Tiumen  to  Eastern 
JL  Siberia  has  a  choice  of  three  widely  different  routes ; 
namely,  first,  the  northern  or  river  route  down  the  Irtish 
and  up  the  Ob  by  steamer  to  Tomsk  ;  second,  the  middle  or 
winter  route,  which  follows  the  great  Siberian  post  road 
through  Omsk,  Kainsk,  and  Kolivan ;  and  third,  the  south- 
ern or  steppe  route,  via  Omsk,  Pavlodar,  Semipalatinsk,  and 
Barnaiil.  Each  of  these  routes  has  some  advantage  not 
possessed  by  either  of  the  others.  The  middle  route,  for  ex- 
ample, is  the  shortest,  but  it  is  also  the  most  traveled  and 
the  best  known.  The  northern  route  is  less  familiar,  and  in 
summer  is  more  comfortable  and  convenient ;  but  it  takes 
one  through  an  uninteresting,  thinly  inhabited,  sub-arctic 
region. 

I  decided,  after  careful  consideration,  to  proceed  from 
Tiumen  to  Tomsk  through  the  steppes  of  the  Irtish  by  way 
of  Omsk,  Pavlodar,  Semipalatinsk,  Ust-Kamenogorsk,  and 
Barnaiil.  This  route  would  take  us  through  the  best  agri- 
cultural part  of  the  provinces  of  Tobolsk  and  Tomsk,  as 
well  as  the  districts  most  thickly  settled  by  exiles ;  it  would 
enable  us  to  see  something  of  the  Mohammedan  city  of  Semi- 
palatinsk and  of  the  great  nomadic  and  pastoral  tribe  of 
natives  known  as  the  Kfrghis ;  and  finally  it  would  afford 
us  an  opportunity  to  explore  a  part  of  the  Russian  Altai 
—  a  high,  picturesque,  mountainous  region  on  the  Mon- 
golian frontier,  which  had  been  described  to  me  by  Russian 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   POST   TRAVEL 


121 


army  officers,  in  terms  of  enthusiastic  admiration,  as  "  the 
Siberian  Switzerland."  I  had,  moreover,  another  reason 
for  wishing  to  keep  as  far  away  as  possible  from  the  regu- 
lar through  routes  of  travel.  I  supposed  when  we  left 
St.  Petersburg  that  we  should  be 
obliged  to  go  from  Tinmen  to 
Tomsk  either  by  steamer  or  over 
the  great  Siberian  road.  The 
Minister  of  the  Interior  under- 
stood that  such  would  be  our 
course,  and  he  caused  letters  to 
be  written  to  all  the  local  offi- 
cials along  these  routes,  apprising 
them  of  our  coming  and  furnish- 
ing them  with  such  instructions 
concerning  us  as  the  circum- 
stances seemed  to  require.  What 
these  instructions  were  I  could 
never  ascertain ;  but  they  antici- 
pated us  at  every  important  point 
on  the  great  Siberian  road  from 
Tiumen  to  the  capital  of  the 
Trans-Baikal.  In  Eastern  Siberia 
the  local  authorities  knew  all 
about  us  months  before  we  ar- 
rived. I  first  became  aware  of 
these  letters  and  this  system  of  official  surveillance  at  Tin- 
men ;  and  as  they  seemed  likely  to  interfere  seriously  with 
my  plans, — particularly  in  the  field  of  political  exile, —  I  de- 
termined to  escape  or  elude  them  as  far  as  possible,  by 
leaving  the  regular  through  route  and  going  into  a  region 
where  the  authorities  had  not  presumably  been  forewarned 
of  our  coming.  I  had  reason  afterward  to  congratulate 
myself  upon  the  exercise  of  sound  judgment  in  making 
this  decision.  The  detour  to  the  southward  brought  us 
not  only  into  the  part  of  Siberia  where  the  political  exiles 


Tiume'nV    v. 

,^^!^^ 

55>!fTobolsk 

,^rf-i''"'"'^il  u  t  o  r  f  s  k 

/S. 

HWagai'skc 

y^      VS 

Gallshma'nov^      / 

% 

ft 

'                V 

r 

IbaTskaya       N?- 

v^ 

Drldva                Va- 

Krulay^ 

^^almakdva      v 

IJ'^'''''^''-   JTara 

lAndronika    /^ 

BeVishe 

y/Sukhofskaya 

Omsk 

r 

}Ust  Zaostrofskaya 

lAchairskaya 

Iz.lbashskaya 

JPokrdfskaya. 

Jsalyanskaya 

rCherlak'ofskaya 

Urliutiupskaya( 

Zhel^zihskaya 

Pialorizhskayai 

' 

Bobrpfskaya 

0; 

f  Peschannaya 

•<; 

f 

Pavloda'r 

V'amishe'fskaya 

Chdrnaya/jp 

Ml 

sbia'zhia 

-v 

GrachevskayaVl 

emiarskaya    ly        if 

V 

^.                            /\ 

Dolo'nskaya* 

V      /  ^ 

^Semipalalinsk 

ENLARGED    MAF 

OF    ROUTE    FROM 

TICMEN    TO 

SEMIPALATINSK. 

122  SIBERIA 

enjoy  most  freedom,  and  where  it  is  easiest  to  make  their 
acquaintance,  but  into  a  province  which  was  then  governed 
by  a  liberal  and  humane  man. 

On  the  morning  of  Tuesday,  June  30,  having  made  our 
farewell  calls,  purchased  a  tdrautds,  and  provided  ourselves 
with  a  padarozluiai/a,  or  order  for  horses,  we  left  Tinmen 
for  Semipalatinsk  by  the  regular  Government  post.  The 
Imperial  Russian  Post  is  now  perhaps  the  most  extensive 
and  perfectly  organized  horse-express  service  in  the  world. 
From  the  southern  end  of  the  peninsula  of  Kamchatka  to 
the  most  remote  village  in  Finland,  from  the  frozen,  wind- 
swept shores  of  the  arctic  ocean  to  the  hot,  sandy  deserts 
of  Central  Asia,  the  whole  empire  is  one  vast  network  of 
post  routes.  You  may  pack  your  portmanteau  in  Nizhni 
Novgorod,  get  a  padarozlmaya  from  the  postal  department, 
and  start  for  Petropavlovsk,  Kamchatka,  seven  thousand 
miles  away,  with  the  full  assurance  that  throughout  the 
whole  of  that  immense  distance  there  will  be  horses,  rein- 
deer, or  dogs  ready  and  waiting  to  carry  you  on,  night  and 
day,  to  your  destination.  It  must,  however,  be  borne  in 
mind  that  the  Russian  post  route  is  a  very  different  thing 
from  the  old  English  post  route,  and  that  the  Russian 
horse  express  differs  widely,  not  only  from  our  own  west- 
ern "  pony  express,"  but  from  the  horse  expresses  of  most 
other  countries.  The  characteristic  feature  of  the  west 
European  and  American  systems  is  the  stage-coach  or  dili- 
gence, which  leaves  certain  places  at  certain  stated  hours, 
or,  in  other  words,  runs  upon  a  prearranged  time  schedule. 
It  is  precisely  this  feature  that  the  Russian  system  does 
not  have.  There  are,  generally  speaking,  no  stage-coach 
lines  in  Russia;  the  vehicles  that  carry  the  mails  do  not 
carry  passengers,  and,  away  from  the  railroads,  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  traveling  upon  a  fixed  time  schedule.  You 
are  never  obliged,  therefore,  to  wait  for  a  public  convey- 
ance which  leaves  at  a  certain  stated  hour,  and  then  go 
through  to  your  destination  in  that  conveyance,  stopping 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF    POST   TRAVEL  123 

when  it  stops  aud  starting  when  it  starts,  without  regard 
to  your  own  health,  comfort,  or  convenience.  On  the  con- 
trary, you  may  ride  in  your  own  sleigh  or  carriage,  and 
have  it  drawn  by  post  horses.  You  may  travel  at  the  rate 
of  175  miles  in  twenty-four  hours,  or  twenty-four  miles  in 
175  hours,  just  as  you  feel  inclined.  You  may  stop  when 
you  like,  where  you  like,  and  for  as  long  a  time  as  you  like, 
and  when  you  are  ready  to  move  on  you  have  only  to 
order  out  yom-  horses  and  get 

pen  to  be,  nor  ■:-^:.7~\i^^^"^'''''''/^'  '-,■;,  ^  to  what  part 
you  may  wish  our  tXrantAs.  to    go.      Send 

your  i^adarozlmaya  to  the  nearest  post  station,  and  in  twenty 
minutes  you  will  be  riding  away  at  the  rate  of  ten  miles  an 
hour,  with  your  postal  order  in  your  pocket  and  a  hundred 
relays  of  fresh  horses  distributed  at  intervals  along  your 
route. 

The  established  rate  of  payment  for  transportation  over 
the  post  routes  of  Western  Siberia  seems  to  an  American 
absm-dly  low.  It  amounts,  including  the  compensation  of 
the  driver,  to  li  cent  per  mile  for  every  horse,  or  3f  cents 
per  mile  for  the  usual  troika^  or  team  of  three.  In  other 
words,  two  persons  can  travel  in  their  own  carriage  with  a 
team  of  three  horses  a  distance  of  twenty  miles  for  68  cents, 
or  34  cents  each.  I  used  to  feel  almost  ashamed  sometimes 
to  wake  up  a  driver  at  a  post  station,  in  the  middle  of  a 
stormy  night,  compel  him  to  harness  three  horses  and  drive 
us  twenty  miles  over  a  dark,  miry,  and  perhaps  dangerous 
road,  and  then  oifer  him  for  this  service  the  pitiful  sum  of 
68  cents.  Trifling  and  inadequate,  however,  as  such  compen- 
sation may  seem,  it  is  large  enough  to  tempt  into  this  field 
of  enterprise  hundreds  of  peasant  farmers  who  compete 
with  the  Government  post  by  furnishing  what  are  known  as 
volni  or  "  free  "  horses,  for  the  transportation  of  travelers 


124  SIBERIA 

from  one  village  to  another.  As  these  free  horses  are  gen- 
erally better  fed  and  in  better  condition  than  the  over- 
driven animals  at  the  post  stations,  it  is  often  advantageous 
to  employ  them;  and  your  driver,  as  you  approach  a  village, 
will  almost  always  turn  around  and  inquire  whether  he  shall 
take  you  to  the  Government  post  station  or  to  the  house  of 
a  "  friend."  Traveling  with  drusJiM,  or  "  friends,"  costs  no 
more  than  traveling  by  post,  and  it  enables  one  to  see  much 
more  of  the  domestic  life  of  the  Siberian  peasants  than  one 
could  see  by  stopping  and  changing  horses  only  at  regular 
post  stations. 

The  first  part  of  our  journey  from  Tinmen  to  Omsk  was 
comparatively  uneventful  and  uninteresting.  The  road  ran 
across  a  great  marshy  plain,  full  of  swampy  lakes,  and  cov- 
ered with  a  scattered  growth  of  willow  and  alder  bushes, 
small  birch-trees,  and  scrubby  firs  and  pines,  which  in  every 
direction  limited  the  vision  and  hid  the  horizon  line.  All 
this  part  of  the  province  of  Tobolsk  seems  to  have  been, 
within  a  comparatively  recent  geological  period,  the  bottom 
of  a  great  inland  sea  which  united  the  Caspian  and  the  Sea 
of  Aral  with  the  arctic  ocean,  along  the  line  of  the  shallow 
depression  through  which  now  flow  the  rivers  Irtish  and  Ob. 
Everywhere  between  Tiumen  and  Omsk  we  saw  evidences, 
in  the  shape  of  sand-banks,  salt-marshes,  beds  of  clay,  and 
swampy  lakes,  to  show  that  we  were  traveling  over  a  partly 
dried  up  sea  bottom. 

About  a  hundred  versts  from  Tiumen,  just  beyond  the 
village  of  Zavodo-ukof skaya,  we  stopped  for  two  hours  early 
in  the  evening  at  the  residence  and  estate  of  a  wealthy 
Siberian  manufacturer  named  Kolmakof,  to  whom  I  had  a 
letter  of  introduction  from  a  Russian  friend.  I  was  sur- 
prised to  find  in  this  remote  part  of  the  world  so  many 
evidences  of  comfort,  taste,  and  luxury  as  were  to  be  seen  in 
and  about  Mr.  Kolmakof 's  house.  The  house  itself  was  only 
a  two-story  building  of  logs,  but  it  was  large  and  comfortably 
furnished,  and  its  windows  looked  out  over  an  artificial  lake, 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   POST   TRAVEL  125 

and  a  beautiful  garden,  with  winding  walks,  rustic  arbors, 
long  lines  of  currant  and  raspberry  bushes,  and  beds  of 
flowering  plants.  At  one  end  of  this  garden  was  a  spacious 
conservatory,  filled  with  geraniums,  verbenas,  hydrangeas, 
cactuses,  orange  and  lemon  trees,  pine-apples,  and  all  sorts 
of  tropical  and  semi-tropical  shrubs,  and  near  at  hand  was  a 
large  hot-house  full  of  cucumbers  and  ripening  cantaloupes. 
In  the  middle  of  the  garden  stood  a  square  building,  sixty 
feet  long  by  forty  or  fifty  feet  wide,  which  was  composed 
almost  entirely  of  glass,  which  had  no  floor  except  the  earth, 
and  which  served,  Mr.  Kolmakof  said,  as  a  sort  of  winter 
garden  and  a  place  of  recreation  during  cold  or  stormy 
weather.  In  this  miniature  Crystal  Palace  stood  a  perfect 
grove  of  bananas  and  young  palms,  through  which  ran  wind- 
ing walks  bordered  by  beds  of  flowers,  with  here  and  there 
amidst  the  greenery  a  comfortable  lounging-place  or  rustic 
seat.  The  trees,  flowers,  and  shrubs  were  not  planted  in 
tubs  or  pots,  but  grew  directly  out  of  the  earthen  floor  of 
the  greenhouse,  so  that  the  effect  was  almost  precisely  that 
of  a  semi-tropical  garden  enclosed  in  glass. 

"  Who  would  have  thought,"  said  Mr.  Frost,  as  he  threw 
himself  into  one  of  the  rustic  seats  beside  a  bed  of  blossom- 
ing verbenas,  "  that  we  should  come  to  Siberia  to  sit  under 
palm-trees  and  in  the  shade  of  bananas  f " 

After  a  walk  through  the  spacious  wooded  park  which  ad- 
joined the  garden,  we  returned  to  the  house,  and  were 
served  with  a  lunch  or  cold  supper  consisting  of  caviar, 
pickled  mushrooms,  salmon,  cold  boiled  fowl,  white  bread, 
sweet  cakes,  and  wild  strawberries,  with  vodka,  two  or  three 
kinds  of  wine,  and  tea. 

It  had  grown  quite  dark  when,  about  eleven  o'clock,  the 
horses  that  we  had  ordered  in  the  neighboring  village 
arrived,  and,  bidding  our  courteous  host  good-by,  we  climbed 
into  the  tdrantds  and  set  out  for  a  long,  dark,  and  dreary 
night's  ride.  The  road,  which  had  never  been  good,  was  in 
worse  condition  than  usual,  owing  to  recent  and  heavy  rains. 


126  SIBERIA 

Our  (.Iriver  urged  four  powerful  horses  over  it  at  break-neck 
speed,  and  we  were  so  jounced,  jolted,  and  shaken  that  it 
was  utterly  impossible  to  get  any  sleep,  and  difficult  enough 
merely  to  keep  our  seats  in  the  vehicle.  Early  in  the  morn- 
ing, sleepy,  jaded,  and  exhausted,  we  reached  the  village  of 
Novo  Zaimskaya,  entered  the  little  log-house  of  our  driver's 
"friend,"  threw  ourselves  on  the  bare  floor,  where  half  a 
dozen  members  of  the  friend's  family  were  already  lying, 
and  for  two  or  three  hours  lost  consciousness  of  our  aching 
spinal  columns  in  the  heavy,  dreamless  slumber  of  physical 
exhaustion. 

Throughout  the  next  day  and  the  following  night  we  trav- 
eled, without  rest,  and  of  course  without  sleep,  over  a  terri- 
bly bad  steppe  road,  and  at  six  o'clock  Thursday  morning 
arrived  in  a  pelting  rain-storm  at  the  circuit  town  of  Ishim. 
No  one  who  has  not  experienced  it  can  fully  realize  the 
actual  physical  suffering  that  is  involved  in  posting  night 
and  day  at  high  speed  over  bad  Siberian  roads.  We  made 
the  200  miles  between  Tinmen  and  Ishim  in  about  thirty- 
five  hours  of  actual  travel,  with  only  four  hours  of  sleep,  and 
were  so  jolted  and  shaken  that  every  bone  in  our  bodies 
ached,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  we  could  climb  into 
and  out  of  our  mud-bespattered  tdrantds  at  the  post  stations. 

It  had  been  our  intention  to  make  a  short  stop  at  Ishim, 
but  the  bad  weather  discouraged  us,  and,  after  drinking  tea 
at  a  peasant's  house  on  the  bank  of  the  Ishim  River,  we  re- 
sumed our  journey.  As  we  rode  out  of  the  town  through  a 
thin  forest  of  birch-trees,  we  began  to  notice  large  numbers 
of  men,  women,  and  children  plodding  along  on  foot  through 
the  mud  in  the  same  direction  that  we  were  going.  Most  of 
them  were  common  muzhiks  with  trousers  inside  their  boots 
and  shirt-flaps  outside  their  trousers,  or  sunburned  peasant 
women  in  red  and.blue  gowns,with  white  kerchiefs  over  their 
heads ;  but  there  were  also  a  few  pedestrians  in  the  conven- 
tional dress  of  the  civilized  world,  who  manifestly  belonged 
to  the  higher  classes,  and  who  even  carried  umbrellas. 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS    OF   POST   TRAVEL  127 

About  four  miles  from  tbe  town  we  saw  ahead  a  great 
crowd  of  men  and  women  marching  towards  us  in  a  dense, 
tumultuous  throng,  carrying  big  three-armed  crosses,  white 
and  colored  banners,  and  huge  glass  lanterns  mounted  on 
long  black  staves. 

"  What  is  that  ? "  I  inquired  of  the  driver. 

"  The  Mother  of  God  is  coming  home,"  he  replied,  with 
reverent  gravity. 

As  they  came  nearer  I  could  see  that  the  throng  was 
densest  in  the  middle  of  the  muddy  road,  under  what  seemed 
to  be  a  large  gilt-framed  picture  which  was  borne  high  in 
air  at  the  end  of  a  long,  stout  wooden  pole.  The  lower  end 
of  this  pole  rested  in  a  socket  in  the  middle  of  a  square 
framework  which  had  handles  on  all  four  sides,  and  which 
was  carried  by  six  bareheaded  peasants.  The  massive  frame 
of  the  portrait  was  made  either  of  gold  or  of  silver  gilt, 
since  it  was  manifestly  very  heavy,  and  half  a  dozen  men 
steadied,  by  means  of  guy  ropes,  the  standard  which  sup- 
ported it,  as  the  bearers,  with  their  faces  bathed  in  perspir- 
ation, staggered  along  under  their  burden.  In  front  of  the 
picture  marched  a  bareheaded,  long-haired  priest  with  a 
book  in  his  hands,  and  on  each  side  were  four  or  five  black- 
robed  deacons  and  acolytes,  carrying  embroidered  silken 
banners,  large  three-armed  gilt  crosses,  and  peculiar  church 
lanterns,  which  looked  like  portable  street  gas-posts  with 
candles  burning  in  them.  The  priest,  the  deacons,  and  all 
the  bareheaded  men  around  the  picture  were  singing  in 
unison  a  deep,  hoarse,  monotonous  chant  as  they  splashed 
along  through  the  mud,  and  the  hundreds  of  men  and  women 
who  surged  around  the  standard  that  supported  the  portrait 
were  constantly  crossing  themselves,  and  joining  at  intervals 
in  the  chanted  psalm  or  prayer.  Scores  of  peasant  women 
had  taken  off  their  shoes  and  stockings  and  slung  them 
over  their  shoulders,  and  were  wading  with  bare  feet  and 
legs  through  the  black,  semi-liquid  mire,  and  neither  men 
nor  women  seemed  to  pay  the  slightest  attention  to  the  rain, 


128  SIBERIA 

which  beat  iipou  their  unprotected  heads  and  trickled  in 
little  rivulets  down  their  hard,  sunburned  faces.  The  crowd 
numbered,  I  should  think,  four  or  five  hundred  persons, 
more  than  half  of  whom  were  women,  and  as  it  approached 
the  town  it  was  constantly  receiving  accessions  from  the 
g-roups  of  pedestrians  that  we  had  overtaken  and  passed. 

Since  entering  Siberia  I  had  not  seen  such  a  strange  and 
medieval  picture  as  that  presented  by  the  black-robed  priest 
and  acolytes,  the  embroidered  banners,  the  lighted  lan- 
terns, the  gilded  crosses,  and  the  great  throng  of  bare- 
headed and  bare-legged  peasants,  tramping  along  the  black, 
muddy  road  through  the  forest  in  the  driving  rain,  singing 
a,  solemn  ecclesiastical  chant.  I  could  almost  imagine  that 
we  had  been  carried  back  to  the  eleventh  century  and  were 
witnessing  the  passage  of  a  detachment  of  Christian  vil- 
lagers who  had  been  stirred  up  and  excited  by  the  elo- 
quence of  Peter  the  Hermit,  and  were  marching  with 
crosses,  banners,  and  chanting  to  join  the  great  host  of 
the  crusaders. 

When  the  last  stragglers  in  the  rear  of  the  procession  had 
passed,  and  the  hoarse,  monotonous  chant  had  died  away 
in  the  distance,  I  turned  to  Mr.  Frost  and  said,  "What  do 
you  suppose  is  the  meaning  of  all  that  ?  " 

"1  have  n't  the  least  idea,"  he  replied.  "It  is  evidently  a 
church  procession,  but  what  it  has  been  doing  out  here  in 
the  woods  I  can't  imagine." 

By  dint  of  persistent  questioning  I  finally  succeeded  in 
eliciting  from  our  driver  an  intelligible  explanation  of  the 
phenomenon.  There  was,  it  appeared,  in  one  of  the  churches 
of  Ishim,  a  very  old  ikon,  or  portrait  of  "  the  Mother  of 
Grod,"  which  was  reputed  to  have  supernatural  powers  and 
to  answer  the  prayers  of  faithful  believers.  In  order  that 
the  country  people  who  were  unable  to  come  to  Ishim 
might  have  an  opportunity  to  pray  to  this  miracle-working 
image,  and  to  share  in  the  blessings  supposed  to  be  con- 
ferred by  its  mere  presence,  it  was  carried  once  a  year. 


FIKST   IMPRESSIONS    OF   POST   TRAVEL 


129 


■  /"■fftir'iivii'.^' '  ''"W^^ 


4) 


RETUKN  OF  THE  MIKACLK-WORKING  IK6n. 


130  SIBERIA 

or  once  in  two  years,  through  all  the  principal  villages  of 
the  Isliini  dknif/,  or  district.  Special  services  in  its  honor 
were  held  in  the  village  churches,  and  hundreds  of  pea!>ants 
accompanied  it  as  it  was  borne  with  solemn  pomp  and  cere- 
mony from  place  to  place.  It  had  been  on  such  a  tour 
when  we  saw  it,  and  was  on  its  way  back  to  the  church  in 
Ishim,  where  it  belonged,  and  our  driver  had  stated  the 
fact  in  the  simplest  and  most  direct  way  when  he  said, 
"  The  Mother  of  God  is  coming  home." 

Rain  fell  at  intervals  throughout  the  day  Thursday,  but 
we  pushed  on  over  a  muddy  steppe  road  in  the  direction  of 
Tiukalinsk,  changing  horses  at  the  post  stations  of  Borof- 
skaya,  Tushnalobova',  Abatskaya,  and  Kamishenka,  and 
stopping  for  the  night  at  a  peasant's  house  in  the  village 
of  Orlova.  In  the  sixty  hours  which  had  elapsed  since  our 
departure  from  Tinmen  we  had  traveled  280  miles,  with 
only  four  hours  of  sleep,  and  we  were  so  much  exhausted 
that  we  could  not  go  any  farther  without  rest.  The  weather 
during  the  night  finally  cleared  up,  and  when  we  resumed 
our  journey  on  the  following  morning  the  sun  was  shining 
brightly  in  an  almost  unclouded  sky,  and  the  air  was  fresh, 
invigorating,  and  filled  with  fragrant  odors. 

Although  the  road  continued  bad,  the  country  as  we 
proceeded  southward  and  eastward  steadily  improved  in 
appearance,  and  before  noon  we  were  riding  across  a  beau- 
tiful, fertile,  and  partly  cultivated  prairie,  which  extended 
in  every  direction  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  with  nothing 
to  break  the  horizon  line  except  an  occasional  clump  of 
small  birch- trees  or  a  dark-green  thicket  of  willow  and  alder 
bushes.  The  steppe  was  bright  with  flowers,  and  here  and 
there  appeared  extensive  tracts  of  black,  newly  plowed 
land,  or  vast  fields  of  waving  grain,  which  showed  that  the 
country  was  inhabited;  but  there  was  not  a  fence,  nor  a 
barn,  nor  a  house  to  be  seen  in  any  direction,  and  I  could 
not  help  wondering  where  the  village  was  to  which  these 
cultivated  fields  belonged.    My  curiosity  was  soon  to  be  sat- 


FIKST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   POST   TllAVEL  131 

isfied.  Ill  a  few  moments  our  driver  gathered  up  bis  muddy 
rope  reius,  braeed  himself  securely  in  his  seat,  threw  out 
behind  and  above  his  head  the  long,  heavy  lash  of  his  short- 
handled  Ixnut^  and  bringing  it  down  with  stinging  force 
across  the  backs  of  his  four  horses  shouted,  in  a  high  fal- 
setto and  a  deep  bass,  "Heekh-ya-a-a!"  The  whole  team 
instantly  broke  into  a  frantic,  tearing  gallop,  which  made 
me  involuntarily  hold  my  breath,  until  it  was  suddenly 
jounced  out  of  me  by  a  terrific  jolt  as  the  tdrantds,  going 
at  the  rate  of  fifteen  miles  an  hour,  dropped  into  a  deep 
rut  and  rebounded  with  tremendous  force,  throwing  me 
violently  out  of  my  seat,  and  making  my  head  and  back 
throb  with  the  shock  of  the  unexpected  concussion.  I 
needed  no  further  evidence  that  we  were  approaching  a 
village.  A  Siberian  team  never  fully  shows  what  it  can 
do  until  it  is  within  half  a  mile  of  its  destination,  and  then 
it  suddenly  becomes  a  living  toniado  of  energy.  I  shouted 
to  the  driver,  "  Pastoi !  Tishei ! "  [Hold  on  !  Don't  go  so 
fast !]  but  it  was  of  no  use.  Both  driver  and  horses  knew 
that  this  was  the  final  spurt,  and  exerted  themselves  to  the 
utmost,  the  horses  laying  back  their  ears  and  tearing  ahead 
as  if  pursued  by  a  prairie  fire,  while  the  driver  lashed  them 
fiercely  with  his  heavy  knut  to  an  accompaniment  of  shrill, 
wild  cries,  whoops,  whistles,  and  shouts  of  "Ya-a-a-va!" 
"Ay  durak ! "  "  Noo-oo-oo ! "  (with  a  falling  inflection) "  Heekh- 
ya-a-a!"  All  that  we  could  do  was  to  shut  our  eyes,  trust 
in  Providence,  and  hold  on.  The  tdrantds  was  pelted  with 
a  perfect  storm  of  mud  from  the  flying  hoofs  of  four  gal- 
loping horses,  and  if,  putting  out  my  head,  I  opened  my 
mouth  to  expostulate  with  the  driver,  I  ran  great  risk  of 
having  it  effectually  closed  by  a  teacupful  of  tenacious 
black  mire,  thrown  like  a  semi-liquid  ball  from  the  cata- 
pult of  a  horse's  hoof.  In  a  moment  we  saw,  barring  the 
way  ahead,  a  long  wattled  fence  extending  for  a  mile  or 
more  to  the  right  and  left,  with  a  narrow  gate  at  the  point 
where  it  intersected  the  road.      It  was  the  fence  which 


132 


SIBERIA 


iut'losed  the  pasture  giouud  of  the  village  that  we  were 
approaching.  As  we  dashed,  with  a  wild  whoop  from  our 
driver,  through  the  opeu  gateway,  we  uoticed  beside  it  a 


HUTS    OF   VILLAGE    GATE  KEEPERS. 


curious  half-underground  hut,  roofed  partly  with  bushes 
and  partly  with  sods,  out  of  which,  as  we  passed,  came  the 
village  gate-keeper — a  dirty,  forlorn-looking  old  man  with 
inflamed  eyes  and  a  long  white  beard,  who  reminded  me 
of  Rip  Van  Winkle  after  his  twenty  years'  sleep.     While 


FIKST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   POST   TRAVEL  133 

he  was  in  the  act  of  bowing  and  touching  the  weather- 
beaten  remains  of  what  was  once  a  hat,  we  whirled  past 
and  lost  sight  of  him,  with  a  feeling  of  regret  that  we  could 
not  stop  and  take  a  photograph  of  such  a  wild,  neglected 
picturesque  embodiment  of  poverty  and  wretchedness 
clothed  in  rags.  Just  inside  the  gate  stood  an  unpainted 
sign-post,  upon  the  board  of  which  had  been  neatly  in- 
scribed in  black  letters  the  words 

Village  of  Krutaya. 
Distance  from  St.  Petersburg,  2992  versts. 
Distance  from  Moscow,  2526  versts. 
Houses,  42.     Male  souls,  97. 

Between  the  gate  and  the  village  there  was  a  grassy 
common  about  half  a  mile  wide,  upon  which  were  gi*azing 
hundreds  of  cattle  and  sheep.  Here  and  there  stood  a 
huge,  picturesque  windmill,  consisting  of  a  small  gable- 
roofed  house  with  four  enormous  wind- vanes  mounted  on 
a  pivot  at  the  apex  of  a  pyramid  of  cross-piled  logs.  Be- 
yond the  windmills  appeared  the  village,  a  small  collection 
of  gray,  weather-beaten  log-houses,  some  with  roofs  of 
boards,  some  with  a  roofing  of  ragged  birch-bark  held  in 
place  by  tightly  lashed  poles,  some  thatched  with  straw, 
and  some  the  flat  roofs  of  which  had  been  overlaid  with 
black  earth  from  the  steppe  and  supported  a  thrifty  steppe 
flora  of  weeds,  buttercups,  and  wild  mustard.  Through 
this  cluster  of  gray  log-houses  ran  one  central  street,  which 
had  neither  walks  nor  gutters,  and  which,  from  side  to  side 
and  from  end  to  end,  was  a  shallow  lake  of  black,  liquid 
mud.  Into  this  wide  street  we  dashed  at  a  tearing  gallop ; 
and  the  splattering  of  the  horses'  hoofs  in  the  mud,  the 
rumble  of  the  tdrantds,  and  the  wild  cries  of  our  driver 
brought  the  whole  population  to  the  windows  to  see  whether 
it  was  the  governor-general  or  a  special  courier  of  the  Tsar 
who  came  at  such  a  furious  pace  into  the  quiet  settle- 
ment. Presently  our  driver  pulled  up  his  reeking,  panting 
horses  before  the  court-yard  gate  of  one  of  his  friends  and 


134 


SIBERIA 


shouted,  "  Davai  losliedei ! "  [Bring  out  the  horses !  ]  Then 
from  all  parts  of  the  village  came,  splashing  and  "  tlilup- 
ping"  througli  the  mud,  idlers  .-md  old  \uvn  to  see  who  had 


A    \  ILl.AGE    UATli  KtKl'lii; 


arrived  and  to  watch  the  changing  of  teams.  Strange, 
picturesque  figures  the  old  men  were,  with  their  wrinkled 
faces,  matted,  neglected  hair,  and  long,  stringy,  gray  beards. 
Some  were  bareheaded,  some  barefooted,  some  wore  tat- 
tered sheepskin  shuhas  and  top-boots,  and  some  had  on 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF    POST    TRAVEL  135 

loug-tailed  butternut  coats,  girt  about  tlie  waist  with  straps 
or  dirty  colored  sashes.  While  they  assembled  m  a  group 
around  the  tdrantds,  our  driver  climbed  down  from  his  high 
seat  and  began  to  unharness  his  horses.  The  owner  of  the 
house  in  front  of  which  w^e  had  stopped  soon  made  his 
appearance,  and  inquired  whether  we  wished  to  drink  tea 
or  to  go  on  at  once.  I  replied  that  we  desired  to  go  on  at 
once.  "Andre!"  he  shouted  to  one  of  his  sons,  "ride  to 
the  pasture  and  drive  in  the  horses."  Andre  sprang  on  a 
barebacked  horse  which  another  boy  brought  out  of  the 
court-yard  and  galloped  away  to  the  village  common.  In 
the  mean  time  the  assembled  crowd  of  idlers  watched  our 
movements,  commented  upon  our  "new-fashioned"  tdran- 
tds, and  tried  to  ascertain  from  our  driver  who  we  were 
and  where  were  going.  Failing  to  get  from  that  source 
any  precise  information,  one  of  them,  a  bareheaded,  gray- 
haired  old  man,  said  to  me,  "Barin!  Permit  us  to  ask  — 
where  is  Grod  taking  you  to!"  I  replied  that  we  were  going 
to  Omsk  and  Semipalatinsk.  "A-a-ah!"  murmured  the 
crowd  with  gratified  curiosity. 

"  Where  do  you  condescend  to  come  from  ? "  inquired  the 
old  man,  pursuing  the  investigation. 

"  From  America,"  I  replied. 

"  A-a-ah ! "  breathed  the  crowd  again. 

"  Is  that  a  Russian  town  ?  "  persisted  the  old  man. 

"  America  is  n't  a  town,"  shouted  a  bright-faced  boy  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  crowd.  "  It 's  a  country.  All  the  world," 
he  continued  mechanically,  as  if  reciting  from  a  school-book, 
"  is  divided  into  five  parts,  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  America, 
and  Australia.  Russia  occupies  two-thirds  of  Europe  and 
one-half  of  Asia."  Beyond  this  even  the  school-boy's  geo- 
graphical knowledge  did  not  extend,  and  it  was  evident  that 
none  of  the  old  inhabitants  of  the  village  had  even  so  much 
as  heard  of  America.  A  young  man,  however,  who  had  hap- 
pened to  be  in  Omsk  when  the  bodies  of  the  dead  members 
of  the  Jeannette  arctic  expedition  were  carried  through  that 


13G  SIBERIA 

city,  undertook  to  enlighten  the  crowd  upon  the  subject  of 
the  Americans,  who,  he  said,  "  were  the  wisest  people  that 
God  had  ever  created,  and  the  only  people  that  had  ever 
sailed  into  the  great  Icy  Sea."  One  of  the  old  inhabitants 
contended  that  Kussian  navigators  had  also  penetrated  the 
Icy  Sea,  and  that  althongh  they  might  not  be  so  "  wise  "  as 
the  Americans,  they  were  quite  as  good  sailors  in  icy  waters. 
This  gave  rise  to  an  animated  discussion  of  polar  exploration, 
in  the  midst  of  which  the  young  fellow  who  had  been  sent 
after  the  horses  came  back  with  whistle  and  whoop,  driving 
the  animals  before  him  into  the  court-yard,  where  they  were 
soon  harnessed,  and  were  then  brought  out  and  fastened 
with  long  rope  traces  to  the  tdrantds.  Our  new  driver 
mounted  the  box,  inquired  whether  we  were  ready,  and 
gathering  up  his  rope  reins  shouted  "Noo-oo!"  to  his  horses; 
and  with  a  measured  jangle  of  bells  from  the  arch  over  the 
thill-horse's  back,  and  a  "  splash-spatter-splash  "  of  hoofs  in 
the  mud,  we  rolled  out  of  the  settlement. 

Such,  with  trifling  variations  in  detail,  was  the  regular 
routine  of  arrival  and  departure  in  all  of  the  steppe  vil- 
lages where  we  changed  horses  between  Tinmen  and  Omsk. 
The  greater  number  of  these  villages  were  dreary,  forlorn- 
looking  places,  containing  neither  yards,  walks,  trees,  grass- 
plots,  nor  shrubbery,  and  presenting  to  the  eye  nothing  but 
two  parallel  lines  of  gray,  dilapidated  log-houses  and  tumble- 
down court-yard  walls  rising  directly  out  of  the  long  pool 
of  jet-black  mud  that  formed  the  solitary  street. 

It  is  with  a  feeling  of  intense  pleasure  and  relief  that  one 
leaves  such  a  village  and  rides  out  upon  the  wide,  clean, 
breezy  steppe  where  the  air  is  filled  \vith  the  fragrance  of 
clover  and  the  singing  of  birds,  and  where  the  eye  is  con- 
stantly delighted  ^vith  great  sweeps  of  smooth,  velvety  turf, 
or  vast  undulating  expanses  of  high  steppe  grass  sprinkled 
in  the  foreground  with  millions  of  wild  roses,  white  mar- 
guerites, delicate  five-angled  harebells,  and  dark-red  tiger- 
lilies.     Between  the  village  of  Krutaya  and  Kalmakova,  on 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   POST   TRAVEL 


137 


Friday,  we  rode  across  a  steppe  that  was  literally  a  great 
ocean  of  flowers.  One  could  pick  twenty  different  species 
and  a  hundred  specimens  within  the  area  of  a  single  square 
yard.  Here  and  there  we  deserted  the  miry  road  and  drove 
for  miles  across  the  smooth,  grassy  plain,  crushing  flowers 
by  the  score  at  every  revolution  of  our  carriage-wheels.  In 
the  middle  of  the  steppe  I  had  our  driver  stop  and  wait  for 
me  while  I  alighted  and  walked  away  into  the  flowery  soli- 
tude to  enjoy  the  stillness,  the  perfumed  air,  and  the  sea  of 
verdure  through  which  ran  the  long,  sinuous  black  line 


A  STEPPE  VILLAGE. 


of  the  muddy  highway.  On  my  left,  beyond  the  road,  was 
a  wide,  shallow  depression  six  or  eight  miles  across,  rising 
on  the  opposite  side  in  a  long,  gradual  sweep  to  a  dark  blue 
line  of  birch  forest  which  formed  the  horizon.  This  depres- 
sion was  one  smooth  expanse  of  close,  green  turf  dotted  with 
grazing  cattle  and  sheep,  and  broken  here  and  there  by  a 
silvery  pool  or  lake.  Around  me,  upon  the  higher  ground, 
the  steppe  was  carpeted  with  flowers,  among  which  I  noticed 
splendid  orange  asters  two  inches  in  diameter,  spotted  tiger- 
lilies  with  strongly  reflexed  petals,  white  clover,  daisies, 
harebells,  spirea,  astragalus,  melilotus,  and  a  peculiar  flower 
growing  in  long,  slender,  curved  spikes  which  suggested 


138  SIBERIA 

tliuhts  iA'  miniature  canniiu^  sky-rockets  sent  up  by  the 
fairies  of  the  steppe.  The  air  was  still  and  warm,  and  had 
a  strange,  sweet  f rag-ranee  which  I  can  liken  only  to  the 
taste  of  wild  lioney.  There  were  no  sounds  to  break  the 
stillness  of  the  great  plain  except  the  drowsy  hum  of  bees, 
the  regular  measured  "Kate-did-Kate-did"  of  a  few  katydids 
in  the  grass  near  me,  and  the  wailing  cry  of  a  steppe  hawk 
hovering  over  the  nest  of  some  field-mice.  It  was  a  delight 
simply  to  lie  on  the  grass  amidst  the  flowers  and  see,  hear, 
and  breathe. 

We  traveled  all  day  Friday  over  flowery  steppes  and 
through  little  log  villages  like  those  that  I  have  tried  to 
describe,  stopping  occasionally  to  make  a  sketch,  collect 
flowers,  or  talk  with  the  peasants  about  the  exile  system. 
Now  and  then  we  met  a  solitary  traveler  in  a  muddy  tdr- 
antds  on  his  way  to  Tinmen,  or  passed  a  troop  of  exiles  in 
gray  overcoats  plodding  along  through  the  mud,  surrounded 
by  a  cordon  of  soldiers;  but  as  we  were  off  the  great 
through  line  of  travel,  we  saw  few  vehicles  except  the  tel- 
egas of  peasants  going  back  and  forth  between  the  villages 
and  the  outlying  fields. 

The  part  of  the  province  of  Tobolsk  through  which  we 
traveled  from  Tinmen  to  Omsk  is  much  more  productive 
and  prosperous  than  a  careless  observer  would  suppose  it  to 
be  from  the  appearance  of  most  of  its  villages.  The  four 
okrugs,  or  "circles,"  ^  of  Tinmen,  Yaliitorfsk,  Ishim,  and 
Tiukalinsk,  through  which  our  road  lay,  have  an  aggregate 
population  of  650,000  and  contain  about  4,000,000  acres  of 

1  An  okrug,    or  circle,  bears   some-  Mississippi  were  one  State,  and  each 

thing  like  the  same  relation  to  a  prov-  of  the  existing  States  were  a  county, 

inee  that  an  American  county  does  to  such  State  and  counties  would  bear  to 

a  state,  except  that  it  is  proportion-  each   other   and  to  the  United  States 

ately   much   larger.     The  province  of  something  like  the  same  relation  which 

Tobolsk,  with  an  area  of  590,000  square  the  province   and   olrmjs  of   Tobolsk 

miles,  has  only  ten  okrugs,  so  that  tbe  bear  to  each  other  and  to  Siberia.     The 

average  area  of  these  subdivisions  is  highest  administrative  officer  in  a  Si- 

about  that  of  the  State  of  Michigan,  berian  province  is  the  governor,  who 

If  all  of  the  territory  north  of  the  Ohio  is  represented  in  every  okrug  by  an 

River  and  the  Potomac  and  east  of  the  isprdvnik. 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF    POST   TRAVEL  139 

cultivated  land.  The  peasants  in  these  circles  own  1,500,000 
head  of  live  stock,  and  produce  perhaps  two-thirds  of  the 
80,000,000  bushels  of  grain  raised  annually  in  the  province. 
There  are  held  every  year  in  the  four  circles  220  town  and 
village  fairs  or  local  markets,  to  which  the  peasants  bring 
great  quantities  of  products  for  sale.  The  transactions  of 
•these  fairs  in  the  circle  of  Yalutorfsk,  for  example,  amount 
annually  to  $2,000,000  ;  in  the  circle  of  Ishim  to  $3,500,000 ; 
and  in  the  whole  province  to  about  $14,000,000.  From 
these  statistics,  and  from  such  inquiries  and  observations 
as  we  were  able  to  make  along  the  road,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  if  the  province  of  Tobolsk  were  honestly  and  intelli- 
gently governed,  and  were  freed  from  the  heavy  burden 
of  criminal  exile,  it  would  in  a  comparatively  short  time 
become  one  of  the  most  prosperous  and  flourishing  parts 
of  the  empire. 

We  drank  tea  Friday  afternoon  at  the  circuit  town  of 
Tiukalinsk,  and  after  a  short  rest  resumed  our  journey 
with  four  "free"  horses.  The  road  was  still  muddy  and 
bad,  and  as  we  skirted  the  edge  of  the  great  marshy  steppe 
of  Baraba  between  Tiukalinsk  and  Bekisheva,  we  were  so 
tormented  by  huge  gray  mosquitos  that  we  were  obliged 
to  put  on  thick  gloves,  cover  our  heads  with  calico  hoods 
and  horse-hair  netting,  and  defend  ourselves  constantly 
with  leafy  branches.  Between  the  mosquitos  and  the 
jolting  we  had  another  hard,  sleepless  night;  but  fortu- 
nately it  was  the  last  one,  and  at  half -past  ten  o'clock  on 
the  morning  of  Saturday,  July  4th,  our  fdrantds  rolled  into 
the  streets  of  Omsk.  Both  we  and  our  vehicle  were  so 
spattered  and  plastered  with  black  steppe  mud  that  no 
one  who  had  seen  us  set  out  from  Tinmen  would  have 
recognized  us.  We  had  been  four  days  and  nights  on 
the  road,  and  had  made  in  that  time  a  journey  of  420 
miles,  with  only  eleven  hours  of  sleep. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE    GliEAT   KIEGHIS    STEPPE 

OMSK,  which  is  a  city  of  about  30,000  inhabitants,  is 
the  capital  of  the  ohlast  of  Akmolinsk,  and  the  seat  of 
government  of  the  steppe  territories/  It  is  an  administra- 
tive rather  than  a  commercial  or  a  manufacturing  town, 
and  its  population  is  largely  composed  of  officials  and  clerks 
employed  in  the  various  Government  bureaus  and  depart- 
ments. It  has  a  few  noticeable  public  buildings,  among 
which  are  the  enormous  white  "cadet  school,"  the  house 
of  the  governor-general,  the  police  station, — a  rather  pic- 
turesque log  building,  surmounted  by  a  fire-alarm  tower, — 
and  the  krepast,  or  fortress.  The  streets  of  the  city  are 
wide  and  unpaved ;  the  dwelling-houses  are  made  generally 
of  logs ;  there  is  the  usual  number  of  white- walled  churches 
and  cathedrals  with  green,  blue,  or  golden  domes;  and 
every  building  that  would  attract  a  traveler's  attention 
belongs  to  the  Government.  If  I  were  asked  to  charac- 
terize Omsk  in  a  few  words,  I  should  describe  it  as  a  city 
of  30,000  inhabitants,  in  which  the  largest  building  is  a 
military  academy  and  the  most  picturesque  building  a 
police  station ;  in  which  there  is  neither  a  newspaper  nor 
a  public  library,  and  in  which  one-half  the  population  wears 

1  The     larger    administrative    divi-  denote  the  organized  political  division 

sions   of  the   Eussian   empire   are    of  called  in  Russia  a  guhernia,  and  "  terri- 

two  kinds  and  are  known  as  gubernie  tory"  to  designate  the  comparatively 

[governments]  and  oblastl  [territories],  unorganized  division  known  as  an  ob- 

As   the   English  word   "government"  last.     The  distinction  between  them  is 

already  has  more  than  one  meaning,  I  very  much  like  that  between  our  states 

shall  use  "province"  in  this  work  to  and  territories. 


THE   GREAT    KIRGHIS   STEPPE 


141 


the  Tsar's  uniform  and  makes  a  business  of  governing  the 
other  half.  The  nature  of  the  relations  between  the  latter 
half  and  the  former  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  an 
intelligent  and  reputable  citizen  of  this  chinovnik-domi- 
nated  city,  who  had  been  kind  and  useful  to  us,  said  to 
me,  when  he  bade  me  good-by,  "Mr.  Kennan,  if  you  find 


POLICE    STATION    AND    FIUE    TOWEK    IN    OMSK. 

it  necessary  to  speak  of  me  by  name  in  your  book,  please 
don't  speak  of  me  favorably." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  why  not  f  "  I  inquired. 

"  Because,"  he  replied,  "  I  don't  think  your  book  will  be 
altogether  pleasing  to  the  Grovernment ;  and  if  I  am  men- 
tioned favorably  in  it,  I  shall  be  harried  by  the  officials 
here  more  than  I  am  now.  My  request  may  seem  to  you 
absurd,  but  it  is  the  only  favor  I  have  to  ask."  ^ 

1  This  was  said  to  me  upon  our  re-  an  account  which  I  had  given  to  Mr. 
turn  from  Eastern  Siberia  in  the  fol-  X of  our  experience  and  the  re- 
lowing  winter,  and  was  callfed  out  by    suits   of   our   observations.      I  should 


142  SIBERIA 

We  found  in  Omsk  very  little  that  was  either  interesting 
(.)!•  instnu'tive.  The  city  was  the  place  of  exile  of  a  well- 
known  and  talented  Russian  author  named  Petropavlovski, 
but  as  we  were  not  aware  of  the  fact  we  missed  an  oppor- 
tunity to  make  the  acquaintance  of  a  man  whose  w^ide  and 
thorough  knowledge  of  Russian  life,  as  well  as  of  the  exile 
system,  might  have  been  in  the  highest  degree  useful  to  us.^ 
The  only  letter  of  introduction  that  I  had  to  deliver  in 
Omsk  was  a  brief  note  from  the  editor  of  a  newspaper  in 
St.  Petersburg  to  Colonel  Paivtsof,  president  of  the  West 
Siberian  branch  of  the  Imperial  Geographical  Society. 
The  latter  received  me  very  cordially,  gave  me  some  useful 
information  with  regard  to  the  comparative  merits  of  differ- 
ent routes  from  Semipalatinsk  to  Tomsk,  and  went  with  me 
to  see  the  little  museum  connected  w^ith  the  Geographical 
Society,  which,  apparently,  was  the  only  evidence  of  culture 
that  the  city  afforded.  Mr.  Frost,  meanwhile,  made  explo- 
rations in  the  neighborhood ;  discovered  and  sketched  a 
wretched  suburb  north  of  the  river  Om,  which  seemed  to 
be  inhabited  chiefly  by  poor,  common  criminal  exiles,  and 
made  the  drawing  of  the  police  station  that  is  reproduced 
on  page  141.  I  tried  to  find  the  ostrofj"  where  the  gifted 
Russian  novelist  Dostoyefski  spent  so  many  years  of  penal 
servitude  and  where,  according  to  the  testimony  of  his 

be  glad  to  give  some  illustrations  of  as  one  of  the  results  of  a  bad  system 

the   "harrying"  to  which  Mr.  X of  government.    I  do  not  know  for  what 

referred,  if  I  could  do  so  without  dis-  specific  reason  he  was  banished  to  Si- 
closing  his  identity.  beria,  but  I  presume  that  his  writings 
1  Mr.  Petropdvlovski  has  written  a  were  regarded  by  the  censor  as  "  per- 
great  deal  for  the  Atechestceiiia  Zapiski  nicious  in  tendency." 
and  other  Russian  magazines  under  the  2  The  word  ostroy  meant  originally 
pen-name  of  "  Karonin,"  and  a  vohirae  a  stockaded  entrenchment  and  was 
of  his  collected  stories  was  published  in  applied  to  the  rude  forts  built  by  the 
Moscow  in  1890.  His  field  as  a  writer  Cossacks  as  they  marched  eastward 
is  the  Russian  village  and  the  every-  into  Siberia  three  centuries  ago.  The 
day  life  of  the  Russian  peasant,  and  he  custom  of  confining  criminals  in  these 
has  shown  in  that  field  not  only  great  forts  finally  gave  to  ostrog  the  meaning 
accuracy  of  observation  and  faithful-  of  "prison,"  and  up  to  the  present 
ness  of  portrayal,  but  a  sympathetic  century  nearly  all  of  the  prisons  in 
comprehension  of  all  the  sufferings  that  Siberia  were  known  as  oxtrogs. 
the  common  people  are  forced  to  endure 


THE   GREAT   KIRGHIS    STEPPE 


143 

but  I  was  told  that 


fellow  prisoners,  he  was  twice  flogged 
it  had  long  before  been  torn  down. 

I   did   not  wonder    that  the    Government  should 


have 


'^«i--.N>* 


THE    EXILE    SUBURB  — OMSK. 


wished  to  tear  down  walls  that  had  witnessed  such  scenes 
of  misery  and  cruelty  as  those  described  in  Dostoyefski's 


1  A  touching  account  of  this  part  of 
Dostoyefski's  life,  by  a  convict  named 
Rozhnofski  who  occupied  the  same  cell 
with  him  in  the  Omsk  os<;'ory,has  recently 
been  published  in  the  Tiflis  newspaper 
Kavkdz.  Rozhnofski  says  that  Dos- 
toyefski  was  flogged  the  first  time  for 
making  complaint,  in  behalf  of  the 
other  prisoners,  of  a  lump  of  filth  found 
in  their  soup.  His  second  punishment 
was  for  saving  a  fellow-prisoner  from 
drowning  when  the  major  in  command 
of  the  OHtroy  had  ordered  him  not  to  do 
so.     The  flogging  in  each  ease  was  so 


brutally  severe  that  the  sufferer  had  to 
be  taken  to  the  hospital,  and  after  the 
second  "execution,"  Rozhnofski  says, 
the  convicts  generally  regarded  Dos- 
toy^fski  as  dead.  When  he  reappeared 
among  them,  after  lying  six  weeks  in 
the  hospital,  they  gave  him  the  nick- 
name pokoinik  [the  deceased].  For  fur- 
ther particulars  of  Dostoyefski's  trial, 
condemnation,  and  life  in  penal  servi- 
tude see  Atrehestvenia  Zapiski  [Annals 
of  the  Fatherland],  Feb.  1881,  and 
March,  1882. 


144 


SIBERIA 


"  Xotes  from  a  House  of  the  Dead."  Tliere  was  one  other 
buililiiig  ill  Omsk  that  we  desired  to  inspoet,  namely,  the 
prison  that  had  taken  the  place  of  the  old  ostrofj ;  but  we 
were  treated  with  such  contemptuous  diseoui'tesy  by  the 
governor  of  the  territory  when  we  called  upon  him  and  asked 


A   KIKGUIS    ENCAMPMENT. 


permission  to  examine  it,  that  we  could  only  retire  with- 
out even  having  taken  seats  in  his  High  Excellency's  office. 
On  Wednesday,  July  8th,  having  fully  recovered  from 
the  fatigue  of  our  journey  from  Tinmen,  we  left  Omsk  with 
three  post  horses  and  a  Cossack  driver  for  Semipalatinsk. 
The  road  between  the  two  cities  runs  everywhere  along 
the  right  bank  of  the  Irtish  through  a  line  of  log  villages 
which  do  not  differ  essentially  in  appearance  from  those 
north  of  Omsk,  but  which  are  inhabited  almost  exclusively 
by  Cossacks.     Whenever  the  Russian  Government  desires 


THE   GREAT   KIRGHIS    STEPPE  145 

to  strengthen  a  weak  frontier  line  so  as  to  prevent  the  in- 
cursions of  hostile  or  predatory  natives,  it  forcibly  colonizes 
along  that  line  a  few  himdi'ed  or  a  few  thousand  families  of 
armed  Cossacks.  During  the  last  century  it  formed  in  this 
way  the  "armed  line  of  the  Terek,"  to  protect  southeastern 
Russia  from  the  raids  of  the  Caucasian  mountaineers,  and 
a  similar  armed  line  along  the  Irtish,  to  hold  in  check  the 
Kirghis.  The  danger  that  was  apprehended  from  these 
half -wild  tribes  long  ago  passed  away,  but  the  descendants 
of  the  Cossack  colonists  still  remain  in  the  places  to  which 
their  parents  or  their  grandparents  were  transported.  They 
have  all  the  hardy  virtues  of  pioneers  and  frontiersmen,  are 
ingenious,  versatile,  and  full  of  resources,  and  adapt  them- 
selves quickly  to  almost  any  en\ironment.  There  are  thirty 
or  forty  settlements  of  such  Cossacks  along  the  line  of  the 
Irtish  between  Omsk  and  Semipalatinsk,  and  as  many  more 
between  Semipalatinsk  and  the  Altai. 

Almost  immediately  after  leaving  Omsk  we  noticed  a 
great  change  in  the  appearance  of  the  country.  The  steppe, 
which  in  the  province  of  Tobolsk  had  been  covered  either 
with  fresh  green  grass  or  with  a  carpet  of  flowers,  here  be- 
came more  bare  and  arid,  and  its  vegetation  was  evidently 
withering  and  drying  up  under  the  fierce  heat  of  the  mid- 
summer sun.  Flowers  were  still  abundant  in  low  places 
along  the  river,  and  we  crossed  now  and  then  wide  areas  of 
grass  that  was  still  green,  but  the  prevailing  color  of  the 
high  steppe  was  a  sort  of  old-gold — a  color  like  that  of  ripe 
wheat.  The  clumps  of  white-stemmed  birch  trees,  that 
had  diversified  and  given  a  park-like  character  to  the 
scenery  north  of  Omsk,  became  less  and  less  frequent; 
cultivated  fields  disappeared  altogether,  and  the  steppe  as- 
sumed more  and  more  the  aspect  of  a  Central  Asiatic  desert. 

A  few  stations  beyond  Omsk,  we  saw  and  visited  for  the 

first  time  an  aiil  [encampment]  of  the  wandering  Kirghis, 

a  pastoral  tribe  of  natives  who  roam  with  their  flocks  and 

herds  over  the  plains  of  southwestern  Siberia  from  the 

10 


141)  SIBERIA 

I'aspiaii  Sea  to  the  moimtains  of  the  Altai,  and  who  make 
up  more  than  three-fourths  of  the  population  of  the  steppe 
territories.  The  aiil  consisted  of  only  three  or  four  small 
kihithhs;  or  eireular  tents  of  gray  felt,  pitched  close  together 
at  a  distance  from  the  road  in  the  midst  of  the  great  ocean- 
like expanse  of  di*y,  yellowish  grass  which  stretched  away 
in  every  direction  to  the  horizon.  There  was  no  path  lead- 
ing to  or  from  the  encampment,  and  the  little  gray  tents, 
standing  alone  on  that  boundless  plain,  seemed  to  be  almost 
as  much  isolated,  and  as  far  removed  from  all  civilized 
human  interests,  as  if  they  were  so  many  frail  skin  cora- 
cles floating  in  the  watery  solitude  of  the  Pacific. 

It  was  evident  from  the  commotion  caused  by  our  ap- 
proach that  the  encampment  had  not  often  been  visited. 
The  swarthy,  half-naked  children,  who  had  been  playing  out 
on  the  grass,  fled  in  affright  to  the  shelter  of  the  tents  as 
they  saw  our  tdrantds  coming  towards  them  across  the 
steppe ;  women  rushed  out  to  take  a  startled  look  at  us  and 
then  disappeared;  and  even  the  men,  who  gathered  in  a 
group  to  meet  us,  appeared  to  be  surprised  and  a  little 
alarmed  by  our  visit.  A  few  words  in  Klrghis,  however, 
from  our  Cossack  driver  reassured  them,  and  upon  the  invi- 
tation of  an  old  man  in  a  red-and-yellow  skull-cap,  who 
seemed,  to  be  the  patriarch  of  the  band,  we  entered  one  of 
the  kibithas.  It  was  a  circular  tent  about  fifteen  feet  in 
diameter  and  eight  feet  high,  made  by  covering  a  dome- 
shaped  framework  of  smoke-blackened  poles  with  large 
overlapping  sheets  of  heavy  gray  felt.  The  slightly  curved 
rafters  which  formed  the  roof  radiated  like  the  spokes  of  a 
wheel  from  a  large  wooden  ring  in  the  center  of  the  dome, 
and  were  supported  around  the  circumference  of  the  tent  by 
a  skeleton  wall  of  wooden  lattice-work  in  which  there  was 
a  hinged  door.  The  ring  in  the  center  of  the  dome  outlined 
the  aperture  left  for  the  escape  of  smoke  and  the  admission 
of  air,  and  directly  under  this  aperture  a  fire  was  smolder- 
ing on  the  ground  inside  a  circle  of  flat  stones,  upon  which 


THE   GREAT   KIRGHIS   STEPPE 


147 


INTERIOR  OF  A   KIRGHIS  KIUfTKA. 


148  SIBEllIA 

stood  a  few  pots,  kettles,  and  other  domestic  utensils.  The 
furniture  of  the  tent  was  very  scanty,  and  consisted  of  a 
narrow,  unpainted  bedstead  opposite  the  door,  two  or  three 
cheap  Russian  trunks  of  wood  painted  blue  and  decorated 
witli  strips  of  tin,  and  a  table  about  four  feet  in  diameter 
and  eight  inches  high,  intended  evidently  to  be  used  by 
persons  who  habitually  squatted  on  the  ground.  Upon  the 
table  were  a  few  dirty  wooden  bowls  and  spoons  and  an 
antique  metal  pitcher,  while  here  and  there,  hanging  against 
the  lattice  wall,  were  buckets  of  birch  bark,  a  harness  or 
two,  a  flint-lock  rifle,  a  red-white-and-golden  saddle  of  wood 
with  silver-inlaid  stirrups,  and  a  pair  of  carpet  saddle-bags. 
The  fii'st  duty  that  hospitality  requires  of  a  Kirghis  host 
is  the  presentation  of  kumis  to  his  guests,  and  we  had  no 
sooner  taken  seats  on  a  sheet  of  gray  felt  beside  the  fire 
than  one  of  the  women  went  to  the  kumis  churn, — a  large, 
black,  greasy  bag  of  horse-hide  hanging  against  the  lattice 
wall, — worked  a  wooden  churn-dasher  up  and  down  in  it 
vigorously  for  a  moment,  and  then  poured  out  of  it  into  a 
greasy  wooden  bowl  fully  a  quart  of  the  great  national  Kir- 
ghis beverage  for  me.  It  did  not  taste  as  much  like  sour 
milk  and  soda-water  as  I  expected  that  it  would.  On  the 
contrary,  it  had  rather  a  pleasant  flavor ;  and  if  it  had  been 
a  little  cleaner  and  cooler,  it  would  have  made  an  agreeable 
and  refreshing  drink.  I  tried  to  please  the  old  Kirghis  pa- 
triarcli  and  to  show  my  appreciation  of  Kirghis  hospitality 
by  drinking  the  whole  bowlful ;  but  I  underestimated  the 
quantity  of  kumis  that  it  is  necessary  to  imbibe  in  order  to 
show  one's  host  that  one  does  n't  dislike  it  and  that  one  is 
satisfied  with  one's  entertainment.  I  had  no  sooner  finished 
one  quart  bowlful  than  the  old  patriarch  brought  me  another; 
and  when  I  told  him  that  a  single  quart  was  all  that  I  per- 
mitted myself  to  take  at  one  time,  and  suggested  that  he 
reserve  the  second  bowlful  for  my  comrade,  Mr.  Frost,  he 
looked  so  pained  and  grieved  that  in  order  to  restore  his 
serenity  I  had  to  go  to  the  tdranfds,  get  my  banjo,  and  sing 


THE  GREAT  KIRGHIS  STEPPE  149 

"  There  is  a  Tavern  in  the  Town."  Mr.  Frost,  meanwhile, 
had  shirked  his  duty  and  his  Mmis  by  pretending  that  he 
could  not  drink  and  draw  simultaneously,  and  that  he 
wanted  to  make  a  likeness  of  the  patriarch's  six-year-old 
sou.  This  seemed  to  be  a  very  adroit  scheme  on  Mr.  Frost's 
part,  but  it  did  not  work  as  well  as  he  had  expected.  No 
sooner  had  he  begun  to  make  the  sketch  than  the  boy's 
mother,  taking  alarm  at  the  peculiar,  searching  way  in  which 
the  artist  looked  at  his  subject,  and  imagining  perhaps  that 
her  offspring  was  being  mesmerized,  paralyzed,  or  bewitched, 
swooped  down  upon  the  ragged  little  urchin,  and  kissing 
him  passionately,  as  if  she  had  almost  lost  him  forever, 
carried  him  away  and  hid  him.  This  imtoward  incident 
cast  such  a  gloom  over  the  subsequent  proceedings  that 
after  singing  four  verses  of  "  Solomon  Levi,"  in  a  vain 
attempt  to  restore  public  confidence  in  Mr.  Frost,  I  put  away 
my  banjo  and  we  took  our  departure.  I  should  like  to  know 
what  traditions  are  now  current  in  that  part  of  the  Kirghis 
steppe  with  regard  to  the  two  plausible  but  designing  gia- 
ours who  went  about  visiting  the  aiils  of  the  faithful,  one 
of  them  singing  unholy  songs  to  the  accompaniment  of  a 
strange  stringed  instrument,  while  the  other  cast  an  "  evil 
eye  "  upon  the  children,  and  tried  to  get  possession  of  their 
souls  by  making  likenesses  of  their  bodies. 

Day  after  day  we  traveled  swiftly  southward  over  a  good 
road  through  the  great  Kirghis  steppe,  stopping  now  and 
then  to  pick  snowy  pond-lilies  in  some  reed-fringed  pool,  or 
to  visit  an  aiil  and  drink  kumis  with  the  hospitable  nomads 
in  their  gray  felt  tents.  Sometimes  the  road  ran  down 
into  the  shallow  valley  of  the  Irtish,  through  undulating 
seas  of  goldenrod  and  long  wild  grass,  whose  wind-swept 
waves  seemed  to  break  here  and  there  in  foaming  crests 
of  snowy  spirea;  sometimes  it  made  a  long  detour  into  the 
high,  arid  steppe  back  from  the  river,  where  the  vegetation 
had  been  parched  to  a  dull  uniform  yellow  by  weeks  of  hot 
sunshine ;  and  sometimes  it  ran  suddenly  into  a  low,  moist 


150  SIBERIA 

oasis  aroniul  a  blno  stei)po  lako,  where  we  found  oiivselves 
in  a  beautiful  natural  llower-garden  crowdtnl  with  rose- 
bushes, hollyhocks,  asters,  daisies,  fringed  pinks,  rosemary, 
flowering  pea,  and  splendid  dark-blue  spikes  of  aconite 
standing  shoulder  high. 

Animals  ami  birds  were  much  more  plentiful  than  they 
had  been  in  the  province  of  Tobolsk,  and  were,  moreover, 
remarkably  tame.  Magnificent  eagles  perched  upon  the 
telegraph  poles  and  did  not  fly  away  until  we  were  almost 
opposite  them;  slate-colored  steppe  quails  with  tufted  heads 
ran  fearlessly  along  the  very  edge  of  the  road  as  we  passed, 
and  even  the  timid  little  jerboa  that  the  Cossacks  call  far- 
ho(/dn  stopped  every  now  and  then  to  look  at  us  as  it  hopped 
away  into  the  dry  grass. 

As  we  went  farther  and  farther  from  Omsk  the  steppe 
became  more  and  more  sea-like  in  its  appearance,  until, 
shortly  after  we  passed  the  post-station  of  Piatorizhskaya 
Thursday  afternoon,  it  looked  like  a  great  yellow  ocean 
extending  in  every  direction  to  the  smooth  horizon  line. 
Its  peculiar  old-gold  color  was  given  to  it  apparently  by 
the  prevailing  species  of  grass  which,  as  it  gradually  dried 
up  in  the  hot  sunshine,  turned  from  green  through  reddish- 
brown  to  the  color  of  dead-ripe  wheat.  In  places  where 
the  soil  happened  for  any  reason  to  be  moist,  as  in  the 
vicinity  of  small  brackish  ponds  and  lakes,  the  grass  was 
still  fresh  and  was  sprinkled  with  flowers ;  but  the  stepi^e, 
as  a  rule,  presented  the  appearance  of  a  boundless  ocean  of 
wheat  stubble,  deepening  here  and  there  into  the  rich 
orange  of  goldenrod. 

Just  before  sunset  we  passed  at  a  distance  of  two  or 
three  hundred  yards  a  lonely  Kirghis  cemetery,  and,  as  we 
had  never  before  seen  a  burial-place  of  this  nomadic  tribe, 
we  stopped  to  examine  it.  It  consisted  of  a  few  low,  bare 
mounds  of  various  shapes  and  dimensions,  and  three  or 
four  large,  rectangular,  fort-like  structui'es  of  sun-dried 
bricks.     The  high  walls  of  the  latter  had  raised  corners, 


THE   GREAT   KIRGHIS   STEPPE 


151 


and  were  pierced  with  square  portholes  through  which,  I 
presume,  the  bodies  of  the  dead  were  carried  into  the  in- 
closure  for  burial.  Inside  of  each  of  these  adobe  forts  were 
two  or  more  grave-shaped  hillocks,  and  at  the  head  of  every 
hillock  stood  a  stick  or  pole  with  a  small  quantity  of  sheep's 
wool  wrapped  around  it.  There  were  no  inscriptions  or 
pictographs  in  or  about  these  mortuary  inclosures,  and, 
apart  from  the  wrappings  of  wool,  I  could  discover  nothing 
that  seemed  likely  to  have  significance.  The  sun  was  just 
setting  as  we  finished  our  inspection  and  resumed  our  jour- 


-  ■- ■"♦at  -■  =Si*«-v.  .  ;"-'>xc^ 


A  KfRGHIS    CEMETERY. 


^^^; 


ney,  and  twenty  minutes  later,  when  I  looked  back  at  the 
lonely,  abandoned  cemetery,  its  orange-tinted  walls  made 
the  only  break  in  the  vast,  curving  horizon  Hue  of  the  Sea 
of  Grass. 

The  road  everywhere  between  Omsk  and  Semipalatinsk 
was  hard  and  dry,  and  so  smooth  that  we  were  scarcely 
conscious  of  being  jolted.  We  slept  every  night  in  our 
tdrantds  while  going  at  the  rate  of  eight  miles  an  hour, 
and  if  it  had  not  been  necessary  to  get  out  at  the  stations 
in  order  to  show  our  padarozhnaya  and  see  to  the  harnessing 
of  fresh  horses,  we  might  have  slept  all  night  without 
waking. 

Very  soon  after  we  began  to  travel  at  night  in  Western 
Siberia,  our  attention  was  attracted  and  our  curiosity  ex- 
cited by  the  peculiar  throbbing  beat  of  an  instrument  that 


152  SIBERIA 

we  took  to  be  a  watch  man's  rattle,  and  that  we  heard  in 
every  viUage  through  which  we  passed  between  sunset  and 
dawn.  It  was  not  exactly  like  any  sound  that  either  of  us 
had  ever  heard  before,  and  we  finally  became  very  curious 
to  see  how  it  was  made.  It  suggested,  at  times,  the  shak- 
ing of  a  billiard  ball  in  a  resonant  wooden  box ;  but  the 
throbs  were  too  clear-cut  and  regular  to  be  made  in  that 
way,  and  I  concluded  at  last  that  they  must  be  produced 
by  beating  rapidly  some  sort  of  rude  wooden  drum.  No 
night-watchman  ever  happened  to  come  near  us  until  we 
approached  Pavlodar,  a  little  town  midway  between  Omsk 
and  Semipalatinsk.  About  two  o'clock  that  morning,  while 
it  was  still  very  dark,  we  stopped  to  change  horses  at  the 
post  station  of  Chernoyarskaya.  Wliile  a  sleepy  Kirghis 
hostler  was  harnessing  fresh  horses  under  the  supervision 
of  a  large-bodied,  sharp-tongued  woman  with  a  lantern  in 
her  hand  and  a  lighted  cigarette  in  her  mouth,  we  were 
suddenly  startled  by  the  hollow  staccato  beat  of  a  night- 
watchman's  drum  coming  out  of  the  darkness  behind  us 
and  only  a  few  feet  away.  "  Now,"  I  said  to  Mr.  Frost,  "  I  '11 
see  what  that  thing  is,"  and  springing  from  the  tdrantds  I 
called  the  watchman  and  asked  him  to  show  me  his  holo- 
tuslil'a  [literally  "hammerer"].  It  proved  to  be  the  simplest 
sort  of  a  noise-producing  instrument.  If  the  reader  will 
take  a  wooden  box  about  the  size  of  a  common  brick, 
knock  out  the  two  narrow  sides,  attach  a  wooden  spool  to 
one  end  by  means  of  a  four-inch  cord  and  fasten  a  clothes- 
brush  handle  to  the  other,  he  will  have  a  fairly  good  imita- 
tion of  a  Siberian  night-watchman's  rattle.  When  this 
instrument  is  shaken  vigorously  and  rhythmically  from 
side  to  side,  as  if  it  were  a  heavy  palm-leaf  fan,  the  clap- 
per, which  is  attached  to  the  upper  end  and  which  is  repre- 
sented by  the  spool,  swings  back  and  forth,  striking  the 
box  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other,  and  producing 
a  series  of  rapid  staccato  beats  that  can  be  heard  on  a  still 
night  at  a  distance  of  two  miles. 


THE   GREAT   KIRGHIS   STEPPE  153 

After  a  little  argument  and  persuasion  the  Chernoyar- 
skaya  night-watchman  consented  to  sell  me  his  rattle,  as  a 
curiosity,  for  the  sum  of  ten  cents  :  but  he  soon  had  reason 
to  regret  the  transaction.  No  sooner  had  he  parted  with 
the  insignia  of  office  than  the  sharp-tongued  and  misan- 
thropic postmistress,  who  was  leaning  against  the  court-yard 
gate,  and  whose  face  I  could  just  make  out  by  the  glow  of 
her  cigarette,  opened  upon  him  a  hot  fire  of  sarcastic  and 
contemptuous  remarks.  "A  fine  night-watchman  you  are ! " 
she  said  with  scornful  irony.  "  What  are  you  good  for  now  ? 
There  was  nothing  of  you  before  but  your  breeches  and 
your  rattle — and  now  you've  sold  your  rattle  ! " 

"  I  can  make  another  to-morrow,"  replied  the  night- 
watchman  in  a  deprecating  tone. 

"  Make  another ! "  retorted  the  postmistress  contempt- 
uously. "  There  's  no  use  in  making  another  if  you  don't 
shake  it  oftener  than  you  have  to-night.  Where  have  you 
been  all  night  anyhow — di'unk  again  with  the  priest?" 

"  Yei  Bokhu  matushka  !  [Before  God,  my  little  mother] 
I  have  n't  taken  a  drop  on  my  tongue  to-night ! "  protested 
the  night-watchman  solemnly.  "  Of  course  you  don't  hear 
my  rattle  when  you're  asleep — Grod  forgive  you  for  what 
you  say ! "  and  the  watchman,  as  if  to  appease  the  woman's 
wrath,  began  to  help  the  Kirghis  hostler  harness  the  horses 
— but  it  was  of  no  use. 

"  What  are  you  trying  to  do  now  ? "  inquired  the  post- 
mistress fiercely — "harness  those  horses  up  goose-fashion  ?  ^ 
"Nyet  bratushka"  [No,  my  little  brother],  you  may  walk 
goose-fashion  with  the  priest  when  you  and  he  go  on  a  spree, 
but  you  can't  harness  my  horses  goose-fashion.  Gro  curl  up 
in  the  sand  somewhere  until  the  Kabak-  opens  or  the  priest 
gets  up.  Now  that  you  've  sold  the  best  part  of  yourself 
for  twenty  hopeks  you  're  of  no  use  to  anybody.  A  night- 
iva-a-tclundiTL !  that  sells  his  r-r-attle  !  !  and  harnesses  a  troika 
GOOSE-fashion  ! ! ! "   she  concluded  with  immeasurable  and 

1  Tandem.  2  Dram-shop. 


154 


SIBERIA 


inexpressible  coutc^mpt.  A  moment  passed — two  minutes 
— but  there  was  no  reply.  The  discomfited  night-watchman 
had  slunk  away  into  the  darkness. 

After  we  had  passed  the  little  Cossack  town  of  Pavlodar 
on  Friday,  the  weather,  which  had  been  warm  ever  since 


AN    OASIS    IN    THE    KfRGHIS    STEPrE. 


our  departure  from  Omsk,  became  intensely  hot,  the  ther- 
mometer indicating  ninety-one  degrees  Fahrenheit  at  1  p,  m. 
As  we  sat,  without  coats  or  waistcoats,  under  the  sizzling 
leather  roof  of  our  tdrantds,  fanning  ourselves  with  our  hats, 
panting  for  breath,  fighting  huge  green-eyed  horseflies, 
and  looking  out  over  an  illimitable  waste  of  dead  grass 


THE   GREAT   KIRGHIS   STEPPE  155 

which  wavered  and  trembled  in  the  fierce  ghire  of  the 
tropical  sunshine,  we  found  it  almost  impossible  to  believe 
that  we  were  in  Siberia. 

Many  of  the  Cossack  villages  along  this  part  of  our  route 
were  situated  down  under  the  high,  steep  bank  of  the 
Irtish  at  the  very  water's  edge,  where  the  soil  was  moist 
enough  to  support  a  luxuriant  vegetation.  As  a  result  of 
such  favorable  situation,  these  villages  were  generally 
shaded  by  trees  and  surrounded  by  well-kept  vegetable  and 
flower  gardens.  After  a  ride  of  twenty  miles  over  an  arid 
steppe  in  the  hot,  blinding  sunshine  of  a  July  afternoon,  it 
was  indescribably  pleasant  and  refreshing  to  come  down 
into  one  of  these  little  oases  of  greenery,  where  a  narrow 
arm  of  the  Irtish  flowed  tranquilly  under  the  checkered 
shade  of  leafy  trees;  where  the  gardens  of  the  Cossack 
housewives  were  full  of  potato,  encumber,  and  melon  vines, 
the  cool,  fresh  green  of  which  made  an  effective  setting  for 
glowing  beds  of  scarlet  poppies;  and  where  women  and 
girls  with  tucked-up  skirts  were  washing  clothes  on  a  little 
platform  projecting  into  the  river,  while  half-naked  chil- 
dren waded  and  splashed  in  the  clear,  cool  water  around 
them. 

We  made  the  last  stretches  of  our  journey  to  Semipala- 
tinsk  in  the  night.  The  steppe  over  which  we  approached 
the  city  was  more  naked  and  sterile  than  any  that  we  had 
crossed,  and  seemed  in  the  faint  twilight  to  be  merely  a 
desert  of  sun-baked  earth  and  short,  dead  grass,  with  here 
and  there  a  I'agged  bush  or  a  long,  ripple-marked  dune  of 
loose,  drifting  sand.  I  fell  asleep  soon  after  midnight,  and 
when  I  awoke  at  half-past  two  o'clock  Sunday  morning 
day  was  just  breaking,  and  we  were  passing  a  large  white 
building  with  lighted  lanterns  hung  against  its  walls,  which 
I  recognized  as  a  city  prison.  It  was  the  tiuremni  zdmol; 
or  "prison  castle"  of  Semipalatinsk.  In  a  few  moments 
we  entered  a  long,  wide,  lonely  street,  bordered  by  un- 
painted  log-houses,  whose  board  window-shutters  were  all 


15() 


SIBERIA 


closed,  and  whose  steep,  pyramidal  roofs  loomed  high  and 
black  ill  the  first  gray  light  of  dawn.  The  street  was  full 
of  soft,  drifted  sand,  in  which  the  hoofs  of  our  horses  fell 
noiselessly,  and  through  which  our  tdrantds  moved  with  as 


WASHrNG    CLOTHES    IN    THE    fRTISH. 

little  jar  as  if  it  were  a  gondola  floating  along  a  watery 
street  in  Venice.  There  was  something  strangely  weird 
and  impressive  in  this  noiseless  night  ride  through  the 
heart  of  a  ghostly  and  apparently  deserted  city,  in  the 
streets  of  which  were  the  drifted  sands  of  the  desert,  and 
where  there  was  not  a  sound  to  indicate  the  presence  of 


THE   GREAT    KIRGHIS   STEPPE  157 

life  save  the  faint,  distant  throbbing  of  a  watchman's  rat- 
tle, like  the  rapid,  far-away  beating  of  a  wooden  drum. 
We  stopped  at  last  in  front  of  a  two-story  building  of 
brick,  covered  with  white  stucco,  which  our  driver  said 
was  the  hotel  SiUr.  After  pounding  vigorously  for  five 
minutes  on  the  front  door,  we  were  admitted  by  a  sleepy 
waiter,  who  showed  us  to  a  hot,  musty  room  in  the  second 
story,  where  we  finished  our  broken  night's  sleep  on  the 
floor. 

The  city  of  Semipalatinsk,  which  has  a  population  of 
about  15,000  Russians,  Klrghis,  and  Tatars,  is  situated  on 
the  right  bank  of  the  river  Irtish,  480  miles  southeast  of 
Omsk  and  about  900  miles  from  Tinmen.  It  is  the  seat  of 
government  of  the  territory  of  Semipalatinsk,  and  is  com- 
mercially a  place  of  some  importance,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  it  stands  on  one  of  the  caravan  routes  to  Tashkend 
and  Central  Asia,  and  commands  a  large  part  of  the  trade 
of  the  Kirghis  steppe.  The  country  tributary  to  it  is  a  pas- 
toral rather  than  an  agricultural  region,  and  of  its  547,000 
inhabitants  497,000  are  nomads,  who  live  in  111,000  Uhit- 
kas  or  felt  tents,  and  own  more  than  3,000,000  head  of  live 
stock,  including  70,000  camels.  The  province  produces  an- 
nually, among  other  things,  45,000  pounds  of  honey,  370,000 
pounds  of  tobacco,  100,000  bushels  of  potatoes,  and  more 
than  12,000,000  bushels  of  grain.  There  are  held  every 
year  within  the  Hmits  of  the  territory  eleven  commercial 
fairs,  the  transactions  of  which  amount  in  the  aggregate  to 
about  $1,000,000.  Forty  or  fifty  caravans  leave  the  city  of 
Semipalatinsk  every  year  for  various  points  in  Mongolia 
and  Central  Asia,  carrying  Russian  goods  to  the  value  of 
from  $150,000  to  $200,000. 

It  is  hardly  necessary,  I  suppose,  to  call  the  attention  of 
persons  who  think  that  all  of  Siberia  is  an  arctic  waste  to 
the  fact  that  honey  and  tobacco  are  not  arctic  products,  and 
that  the  camel  is  not  a  beast  of  burden  used  by  Eskimos 
on  wastes  of  snow.     If  Mr.  Frost  and  I  had  supposed  the 


158  SIBERIA 

climate  of  southwestern  Siberia  to  be  arctic  in  its  char- 
actor,  our  minds  would  have  been  dispossessed  of  that 
erroneous  idea  in  loss  than  twelve  hours  after  our  arrival 
in  Seniipalatinsk.  When  we  sot  out  for  a  walk  through 
the  city  about  one  o'clock  Sunday  afternoon,  the  thermom- 
eter indicated  eighty-nine  degrees  Fahrenheit  in  the  shade, 
with  a  north  wind,  and  the  inhabitants  seemed  to  regard  it 
as  rather  a  cool  and  pleasant  summer  day.  After  wading 
around  in  the  deej)  sand  under  a  blazing  sun  for  an  hour 
and  a  half,  we  were  more  than  ready  to  seek  the  shelter  of 
the  hotel  and  call  for  refrigerating  drinks.  The  city  of 
Semipalatinsk  fully  deserves  the  nickname  that  has  been 
given  to  it  by  the  Russian  officers  there  stationed,  viz., 
"  The  Devil's  Sand-box."  From  almost  any  interior  point 
of  view  it  presents  a  peculiar  gray,  dreary  appearance,  owing 
partly  to  the  complete  absence  of  trees  and  grass,  partly  to 
the  ashy,  weather-beaten  aspect  of  its  unpainted  log-houses, 
and  partly  to  the  loose,  drifting  sand  with  which  its  streets 
are  filled.  We  did  not  see  in  our  walk  of  an  hour  and  a 
half  a  single  tree,  bush,  or  blade  of  grass,  and  we  waded 
a  large  part  of  the  time  through  soft,  dry  sand  which 
was  more  than  ankle-deep,  and  which  in  places  had  been 
drifted,  like  snow,  to  a  depth  of  four  or  five  feet  against 
the  walls  of  the  gray  log-houses.  The  whole  city  made 
upon  me  the  impression  of  a  Mohammedan  town  built  in 
the  middle  of  a  north  African  desert.  This  impression  was 
deepened  by  the  Tatar  mosques  here  and  there  with  their 
brown,  candle-extinguisher  minarets;  by  the  groups  of 
long-bearded,  white-turbaned  mullas  who  stood  around 
them ;  and  by  the  appearance  in  the  street  now  and  then 
of  a  huge  double-humped  Bactrian  camel,  ridden  into  the 
city  by  a  swarthy,  sheepskin-hooded  Klrghis  from  the 
steppes. 

Monday  morning  I  called  upon  General  Tseklinski,  the 
governor  of  the  territory,  presented  my  letters  from  the 
Russian  Minister  of  the  Interior  and  the  Minister  of  Foreign 


THE   GREAT   KIRGHIS   STEPPE 


1.59 


A    STREET    IN    SEMIPALATINSK. 


Affairs,  and  was  gratified  to  find  that  he  had  apparently 
received  no  private  instructions  with  regard  to  us  and  knew 
nothing  whatever  about  us.    He  welcomed  me  courteously, 


IGO  SIBEllIA 

granted  me  permission  to  inspect  the  Semipalatinsk  prison, 
said  lie  wonld  send  tlie  chief  of  the  police  to  take  us  to 
the  mosques  and  show  us  about  the  city,  and  promised 
to  have  prepared  for  us  an  open  letter  of  introduction 
to  all  the  subordinate  othcials  in  the  Semipalatinsk 
territory. 

From  the  house  of  the  governor  I  went,  upon  his  recom- 
mendation, to  the  public  library,  an  unpretending  log-house 
in  the  middle  of  the  town,  where  I  found  a  small  anthropo- 
logical museum,  a  comfortable  little  reading-room  supplied 
with  all  the  Russian  newspapers  and  magazines,  and  a  well- 
chosen  collection  of  about  one  thousand  books,  among  which 
I  was  somewhat  surprised  to  find  the  works  of  Spencer, 
Buckle,  Lewes,  Mill,  Taine,  Lubbock,  Tylor,  Huxley,  Dar- 
win, Lyell,  Tyndall,  Alfred  Eussell  Wallace,  Mackenzie 
Wallace,  and  Sir  Henry  Maine,  as  well  as  the  novels  and 
stories  of  Scott,  Dickens,  Marryat,  George  Eliot,  George 
Macdonald,  Anthony  Trollope,  Justin  McCarthy,  Erckmann- 
Chatrian,  Edgar  Allan  Poe,  and  Bret  Harte.  The  library 
was  particularly  strong  in  the  departments  of  science  and 
political  economy,  and  the  collection  of  books,  as  a  whole, 
was  in  the  highest  degree  creditable  to  the  intelligence  and 
taste  of  the  people  who  made  and  used  it.  It  gave  me  a 
better  opinion  of  Semipalatinsk  than  anything  that  I  had 
thus  far  seen  or  heard. ^ 

1  Most  of  the  works  of  the  scientific  A  similar  taboo  had  been  placed  upon 
authors  above  named  were  expurgated  the  works  of  Spencer,  Mill,  Lewes,  Lub- 
Russian  editions.  Almost  every  chap-  bock,  Huxley,  and  Lyell,  notwithstand- 
terofLecky's ''History  of  Rationalism"  ing  the  fact  that  the  censor  had  cut  out 
had  been  defaced  by  the  censor,  and  in  ofthemeverythingthatseemedtohimto 
a  hasty  exarainatiou  of  it  I  found  gaps  have  a  "  dangerous"  or  "demoralizing  " 
where  from  ten  to  sixty  pages  had  been  tendency.  I  subsequently  ascertained 
cut  out  bodily.  Even  in  this  mutilated  that  these  volumes,  with  more  than  100 
form,  and  in  the  remote  Siberian  town  others,  had  been  put  into  the  index 
of  Semipalatinsk,  the  book  was  such  an  expurgatorius,  and  that  every  public 
object  of  terror  to  a  cowardly  Govern-  librarian  in  the  empire  had  been  fer- 
ment, that  it  had  been  quarantined  by  bidden  to  issue  them  to  readers.  A 
order  of  the  Tsar,  and  could  not  be  is-  complete  list  of  the  books  thus  placed 
sued  to  a  reader  without  special  permis-  under  the  ban  will  be  found  in  Appen- 
sion  from  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  dix  B. 


THE   GREAT   KIRGHIS   STEPPE 


101 


A.  CAMEL    TEAM    CROSSING    THE    FORD. 


11 


102  SIBEKIA 

From  the  libiary  i  ytroJleil  eastward  aloug  the  bank  of 
the  Irtish  to  the  pendulum  ferry  by  which  communication 
is  maintained  between  Semipalatinsk  and  a  Kirghis  suburb 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river.  The  ferry-boat  starts  from 
a  wooded  ishuid  in  mid-stream,  which  is  reached  either  by 
crossing  a  foot-bridge,  or  by  fording  the  shallow  channel 
that  separates  it  from  the  Semipalatinsk  shore.  Just 
ahead  of  me  were  several  Kirghis  with  three  or  four  double- 
huuiped  camels,  one  of  which  was  harnessed  to  a  Russian 
telega.  Upon  reaching  the  ford  the  Kirghis  released  the 
draught  camel  from  the  telega,  lashed  the  empty  vehicle, 
wheels  upwards,  upon  the  back  of  the  grunting,  groaning 
animal,  and  made  him  wade  with  it  across  the  stream.  A 
Bactrian  camel,  with  his  two  loose,  drooj^ing  humps,  his 
long  neck,  and  his  preposterously  conceited  and  disdainful 
expression  of  countenance,  is  always  a  ridiculous  beast,  but 
he  never  looks  so  absurdly  comical  as  when  crossing  a  stream 
with  a  four-wheeled  wagon  lashed  bottom  upward  on  his 
back.  The  shore  of  the  Irtish  opposite  Semipalatinsk  is 
nothing  more  than  the  edge  of  a  great  desert-like  steppe 
which  stretches  away  to  the  southward  beyond  the  limits  of 
vision.  I  reached  there  just  in  time  to  see  the  unloading 
of  a  caravan  of  camels  which  had  arrived  from  Tashkend 
wdth  silks,  rugs,  and  other  Central  Asiatic  goods  for  the 
Semipalatinsk  market. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  I  retraced  my  steps  to  the  hotel, 
where  I  found  Mr.  Frost,  who  had  been  sketching  all  day  in 
the  Tatar  or  eastern  end  of  the  town.  The  evening  was  hot 
and  sultry,  and  we  sat  until  eleven  o'clock  without  coats  or 
waistcoats,  beside  windows  thrown  wide  open  to  catch  every 
breath  of  air,  listening  to  the  unfamiliar  noises  of  the  Tatar 
city.  It  was  the  last  night  of  the  great  Mohammedan  fast 
of  Ramazan,  and  the  whole  population  seemed  to  be  astir 
until  long  after  midnight.  From  every  part  of  the  town 
came  to  us  on  the  still  night  air  the  quick  staccato  throbbing 
of  watchmen's  rattles,  which  sounded  like  the  rapid  beating 


THE    GREAT    KIKGHIS    STEPPE 


163 


of  wooden  drums,  and  suggested  some  pagan  ceremony  in 
central  Africa  or  the  Fiji  Islands.  Now  and  then  the  rattles 
became  quiet,  and  then  the  stillness  was  broken  by  the  long- 


\  JilKUUlS    HORSEMAN    i:S    GALA    DitliSS. 


drawn,  wailing  cries  of  the  muezzins  from  the  minarets  of 
the  Tatar  mosques. 

Tuesday  morning  when  we  awoke  we  found  the  streets 
full  of  Tatars  and  Kirghis  in  gala  dress,  celebrating  the  first 


1(54  SIBERIA 

of  the  three  holidays  that  follow  the  Mohammedan  Lent. 
About  noon  the  eliief  of  poliee  came  to  our  hotel,  by  diree- 
tion  of  the  governor,  to  make  our  aequaintance  and  to  show 
us  about  the  city,  and  under  his  guidance  we  spent  two  or 
three  hours  in  examining  the  great  Tatar  mosque  and 
making  ceremonious  calls  upon  mullas  and  Tatar  officials. 
He  then  asked  us  if  we  would  not  like  to  see  a  Tatar  and 
Kirghis  wrestling  match.  We  replied,  of  course,  in  the 
affirmative,  and  were  driven  at  once  in  his  (hyjslik)/  to  an 
open  sandy  common  at  the  eastern  end  of  the  city,  where 
we  found  a  great  crowd  assembled  and  where  the  wrestling 
had  already  begun.  The  dense  throng  of  spectators — mostly 
Kirghis  and  Tatars  —  was  arranged  in  concentric  circles 
around  an  open  space  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet  in  diameter. 
The  inner  circle  was  formed  by  two  or  three  lines  of  men, 
squatting  on  their  heels ;  then  came  three  or  four  lines  of 
standing  men,  and  behind  the  latter  was  a  close  circle  of 
horsemen  sitting  in  their  saddles,  and  representing  the 
gallery.  The  chief  of  police  made  a  way  for  us  through 
the  crowd  to  the  inner  circle,  where  we  took  orchestra  seats 
in  the  sand  under  a  blazing  sun  and  in  a  cloud  of  fine  dust 
raised  by  the  wrestlers.  The  crowd,  as  we  soon  discovered, 
was  divided  into  two  hostile  camps,  consisting  respectively 
of  Kirghis  and  Tatars.  Ours  was  the  Kirghis  side,  and 
opposite  us  were  the  Tatars.  There  were  four  masters  of 
ceremonies,  who  were  dressed  in  long  green  khaldts,  and 
carried  rattan  wands.  The  two  Tatar  officials  would  select 
a,  champion  in  their  corner,  throw  a  sash  over  his  head,  pull 
him  out  into  the  arena,  and  then  challenge  the  Kirghis  officials 
to  match  him.  The  latter  would  soon  find  a  man  about 
equal  to  the  Tatar  champion  in  size  and  weight,  and  then 
the  two  contestants  would  prepare  for  the  struggle.  The 
first  bout  after  we  arrived  was  between  a  good-looking, 
smooth-faced  young  Kirghis,  who  wore  a  blue  skull-cap  and 
a  red  sash,  and  an  athletic,  heavily  built  Tatar,  in  a  yellow 
skull-cap  and  a  green  sash.     They  eyed  each  other  warily 


THE  GREAT  KIRGHIS  STEPPE 


165 


166  SIBEKIA 

for  a  nionu'iit,  and  then  clinched  fiercely,  each  grasping  with 
one  hand  his  adversary's  sash,  while  he  endeavored  with 
tlie  other  to  get  an  advantageous  hold  of  wrist,  arm,  or 
shoulder.  Their  heads  were  pressed  closely  together,  their 
bodies  were  bent  almost  into  right  angles  at  their  waists, 
and  their  feet  were  kept  well  back  to  avoid  trips.  Presently 
both  secured  sash  and  shoulder  holds,  and  in  a  bent  position 
backed  each  other  around  the  arena,  the  Kirghis  watching 
for  an  opportunity  to  trip  and  the  Tatar  striving  to  close 
in.  The  veins  stood  out  like  whipcords  on  their  foreheads 
and  necks,  and  their  swarthy  faces  dripped  with  perspiration 
as  they  struggled  and  manoeuvered  in  the  scorching  sun- 
shine, but  neither  of  them  seemed  to  be  able  to  find  an 
opening  in  the  other's  guard  or  to  get  any  decided  advantage. 
At  last,  however,  the  Tatar  backed  away  suddenly,  pulling 
the  Kirghis  violently  towards  him ;  and  as  the  latter  stepped 
forward  to  recover  his  balance,  he  was  dexterously  tripped 
by  a  powerful  side-blow  of  the  Tatar's  leg  and  foot.  The 
trip  did  not  throw  him  to  the  ground,  but  it  did  throw  him 
off  his  guard ;  and,  before  he  could  recover  himself,  the  Ta- 
tar broke  the  sash  and  shoulder  hold,  rushed  in  fiercely, 
caught  him  around  the  body,  and,  with  a  hip-lock  and  a 
tremendous  heave,  threw  him  over  his  head.  The  unfortu- 
nate Kirghis  fell  with  such  violence  that  the  blood  streamed 
from  his  nose  and  mouth  and  he  seemed  partly  stunned ;  but 
he  was  able  to  get  up  without  assistance  and  walked  in  a 
dazed  way  to  his  corner,  amidst  a  roar  of  shouts  and  trium- 
phant cries  from  the  Tatar  side. 

As  the  excitement  increased  new  champions  offered  them- 
selves, and  in  a  moment  two  more  contestants  were  locked 
in  a  desperate  struggle,  amidst  a  babel  of  exclamations, 
suggestions,  taunts,  and  yells  of  encouragement  or  defiance 
from  their  respective  supporters.  The  hot  air  was  filled  with 
a  dusty  haze  of  fine  sand,  which  was  extremely  irritating  to 
the  eyes ;  our  faces  and  hands  burned  as  if  they  were  being 
slowly  blistered  by  the  torrid  sunshine ;   and  the  odors  of 


THE   GKEAT   KillGHIS   STEPPE  167 

horses,  of  perspiration,  and  of  greasy  old  sheepskins,  from 
the  closely  packed  mass  of  animals  and  men  about  us, 
became  so  overpowering  that  we  could  scarcely  breathe ;  but 
there  was  so  much  excitement  and  novelty  in  the  scene,  that 
we  managed  to  hold  out  through  twelve  or  fifteen  bouts. 
Two  police  officers  were  present  to  maintain  order  and  pre- 
vent fights,  but  their  interference  was  not  needed.  The 
wrestling  was  invariably  good-lmmored,  and  the  vanquished 
retired  without  any  manifestations  of  ill-feeling,  and  often 
with  laughter  at  their  own  discomfiture.  The  Klrghis  were 
generally  overmatched.  The  Tatars,  although  perhaps  no 
stronger,  were  quicker  and  more  dexterous  than  their 
nomadic  adversaries,  and  won  on  an  average  two  falls  out 
of  every  three.  About  five  o'clock,  although  the  wrestling 
still  continued,  we  made  our  way  out  of  the  crowd  and 
returned  to  the  hotel,  to  bathe  our  burning  faces  and,  if 
possible,  get  cool. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

OUR   FIRST   MEETING   WITH   POLITICAL   EXILES 

OUR  first  meeting  with  political  exiles  in  Siberia  was 
brought  about  by  a  fortunate  accident,  and,  strangely 
enough,  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  Government. 
Among  the  many  officers  whose  acquaintance  we  made  in 
Semipalatinsk  was  an  educated  and  intelligent  gentleman 
named  Piivlovski,  who  had  long  held  an  important  position 
in  the  Russian  service,  and  who  was  introduced  to  us  as 
a  man  whose  wide  and  accurate  knowledge  of  Siberia, 
especially  of  the  steppe  territories,  might  render  him  val- 
uable to  us,  both  as  an  adviser  and  as  a  source  of  trust- 
worthy information.  Although  Mr.  Pavlovski  impressed 
me  from  the  first  as  a  cultivated,  humane,  and  liberal  man, 
I  naturally  hesitated  to  apply  to  him  for  information  con- 
cerning the  political  exiles.  The  advice  given  me  in  St. 
Petersburg  had  led  me  to  believe  that  the  Grovernment 
would  regard  with  disapprobation  any  attempt  on  the  part 
of  a  foreign  traveler  to  investigate  a  certain  class  of  politi- 
cal questions  or  to  form  the  acquaintance  of  a  certain  class 
of  political  offenders;  and  I  expected,  therefore,  to  have 
to  make  all  such  investigations  and  acquaintances  stealth- 
ily and  by  underground  methods.  I  was  not  at  that  time 
aware  of  the  fact  that  Russian  officials  and  political  exiles 
are  often  secretly  in  sympathy,  and  it  would  never  have 
occurred  to  me  to  seek  the  aid  of  the  one  class  in  making 
the  acquaintance  of  the  other.  In  all  of  my  early  conver- 
sations with  Mr.  Pavlovski,  therefore,  I  studiously  avoided 


OUR   FIRST   MEETING   WITH   POLITICAL   EXILES  169 

the  subject  of  political  exile,  and  gave  him,  I  think,  no 
reason  whatever  to  suppose  that  I  knew  anything  about 
the  Russian  revolutionary  movement,  or  felt  any  partic- 
ular interest  in  the  exiled  revolutionists. 

In  the  coui'se  of  a  talk  one  afternoon  about  America, 
Mr.  Pavlovski,  turning  the  conversation  abruptly,  said 
to  me,  "  Mr.  Kennan,  have  you  ever  paid  any  attention  to 
the  movement  of  young  people  into  Siberia  f " 

I  did  not  at  first  see  the  drift  nor  catch  the  significance  of 
this  inquiry,  and  replied,  in  a  qualified  negative,  that  I  had 
not,  but  that  perhaps  I  did  not  fully  understand  the  mean- 
ing of  his  question. 

"I  mean,"  he  said,  "that  large  numbers  of  educated 
young  men  and  women  are  now  coming  into  Siberia  from 
European  Eussia ;  I  thought  perhaps  the  movement  might 
have  attracted  your  attention." 

The  earnest,  significant  way  in  which  he  looked  at  me 
while  making  this  remark,  as  if  he  were  experimenting 
upon  me  or  sounding  me,  led  me  to  conjecture  that  the 
young  people  to  whom  he  referred  were  the  political  exiles. 
I  did  not  forget,  however,  that  I  was  dealing  with  a  Rus- 
sian officer;  and  I  replied  guardedly  that  I  had  heard 
something  about  this  movement,  but  knew  nothing  of  it 
from  personal  observation. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  he  said,  looking  at  me  with  the  same 
watchful  intentness,  "that  it  is  a  remarkable  social  phe- 
nomenon, and  one  that  would  naturally  attract  a  foreign 
traveler's  attention." 

I  replied  that  I  was  interested,  of  course,  in  all  the  social 
phenomena  of  Russia,  and  that  I  should  undoubtedly  feel 
a  deep  interest  in  the  one  to  which  he  referred  if  I  knew 
more  about  it. 

"  Some  of  the  people  who  are  now  coming  to  Siberia,"  he 
continued,  "are  young  men  and  women  of  high  attain- 
ments—  men  with  a  university  training  and  women  of 
remarkable  character." 


170  SIBERIA 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  so  I  have  heard ;  and  I  should  think 
that  they  might  perhaps  be  interesting  people  to  know." 

''They  are,"  he  assented.  "They  are  men  and  women 
who,  under  other  circumstances,  might  render  valuable 
services  to  their  country;  I  am  surprised  that  you  have 
not  become  interested  in  them." 

In  this  manner  Mr.  Pavlovski  and  I  continued  to  fence 
cautiously  for  five  minutes,  each  trying  to  ascertain  the 
views  of  the  other,  without  fully  disclosing  his  own  views 
concerning  the  unnamed,  but  clearly  understood,  subject  of 
political  exile.  Mr.  Pavlovski's  words  and  manner  seemed 
to  indicate  that  he  himself  regarded  with  great  interest 
and  respect  the  "young  people  now  coming  to  Siberia"; 
but  that  he  did  not  dare  make  a  frank  avowal  of  such 
sentiments  until  he  should  feel  assured  of  my  discretion, 
trustworthiness,  and  sympathy.  I,  on  my  side,  was  equally 
cautious,  fearing  that  the  uncalled-for  introduction  of  this 
topic  by  a  Russian  official  might  be  intended  to  entrap  me 
into  an  admission  that  the  investigation  of  political  exile 
was  the  real  object  of  our  Siberian  journey.  The  adoption 
of  a  quasi-friendly  attitude  by  an  ofiicer  of  the  Govern- 
ment towards  the  exiled  enemies  of  that  Grovernment  seemed 
to  me  an  extraordinary  and  unprecedented  phenomenon, 
and  I  naturally  regarded  it  with  some  suspicion. 

At  last,  tired  of  this  conversational  beating  around  the 
bush,  I  said  frankly,  "  Mr.  Pavlovski,  are  you  talking  about 
the  political  exiles  ?  Are  they  the  young  people  to  whom 
you  refer  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied ;  "  I  thought  you  understood.  It  seems 
to  me  that  the  banishment  to  Siberia  of  a  large  part  of  the 
youth  of  Russia  is  a  phenomenon  that  deserves  a  traveler's 
attention." 

"  Of  course,"  I  said,  "  I  am  interested  in  it,  but  how  am 
I  to  find  out  anjrthiug  about  it?  I  don't  know  where  to 
look  for  political  exiles,  nor  how  to  get  acquainted  with 
them;  and  I  am  told  that  the  Government  does  not  re- 


OUR   FIRST   MEETING   WITH   POLITICAL   EXILES  171 

garcl  with  favor  intercourse  between  foreign  travelers  and 
politicals." 

"  Politicals  are  easy  enough  to  find,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pav- 
lovski.  "  The  country  is  full  of  them,  and  [with  a  shrug 
of  the  shoulders]  there  is  nothing,  so  far  as  I  know,  to 
prevent  you  from  making  their  acquaintance  if  you  feel 
so  disposed.  There  are  thirty  or  forty  of  them  here  in 
Semipalatinsk,  and  they  walk  about  the  streets  like  other 
people :  why  should  n't  you  happen  to  meet  them  I " 

Having  once  broken  the  ice  of  reserve  and  restraint,  Mr. 
Pavlovski  and  I  made  rapid  advances  towards  mutual  con- 
fidence. I  soon  became  convinced  that  he  was  not  making 
a  pretense  of  sympathy  wdth  the  politicals  in  order  to  lead 
me  into  a  trap ;  and  he  apparently  became  satisfied  that  I 
had  judgment  and  tact  enough  not  to  get  him  into  trouble 
by  talking  to  other  people  about  his  opinions  and  actions. 
Then  everything  went  smoothly.  I  told  him  frankly  what 
my  impressions  were  with  regard  to  the  character  of  nihi- 
lists generally,  and  asked  him  whether,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
they  were  not  wrong-headed  fanatics  and  wild  social  theo- 
rists, who  would  be  likely  to  make  trouble  in  any  state. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  replied,  "  I  find  them  to  be  quiet, 
orderly,  reasonable  human  beings.  We  certainly  have  no 
troul^le  with  them  here.  Governor  Tseklinski  treats  them 
with  great  kindness  and  consideration;  and,  so  far  as  I 
know,  they  are  good  citizens." 

In  the  course  of  further  conversation,  Mr.  Pavlovski  said 
that  there  were  in  Semipalatinsk,  he  believed,  about  forty 
political  exiles,  including  four  or  five  women.  They  had 
all  been  banished  without  judicial  trial,  upon  mere  exec- 
uti^'e  orders,  signed  by  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  and 
approved  by  the  Tsar.  Their  -terms  of  exile  varied  from 
two  to  five  years ;  and  at  the  expiration  of  such  terms,  if 
their  behavior  meanwhile  had  been  satisfactory  to  the  local 
Siberian  authorities,  they  would  be  permitted  to  return,  at 
their  own  expense,  to  their  homes.    A  few  of  them  had  found 


172  SIBEKIA 

employment  in  Semipalatiusk  and  were  supporting  them- 
selves; others  reeeived  money  from  relatives  or  friends; 
and  the  remainder  were  supported  —  or  rather  kept  from 
aetual  starvation  —  by  a  Government  allowance,  which 
amounted  to  six  rubles  ($3.00)  a  month  for  exiles  belong- 
ing to  the  noble  or  privileged  class,  and  two  rubles  and 
seventy  kojjc/iS  ($1.35)  a  month  for  non-privileged  exiles. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mr.  Pavlovski,  "  such  sums  are  wholly 
inadequate  for  their  support.  Nine  liOpeks  [four  and  a  half 
cents]  a  day  won't  keep  a  man  in  bread,  to  say  nothing  of 
providing  him  with  shelter ;  and  if  the  more  fortunate  ones 
who  get  employment  or  receive  money  from  their  relatives 
did  not  help  the  others,  there  would  be  much  more  suffering 
than  there  is.  Most  of  them  are  educated  men  and  women, 
and  Grovernor  Tseklinski,  who  appreciates  the  hardships  of 
their  situation,  allows  them  to  give  private  lessons,  although, 
according  to  the  letter  of  the  law,  teaching  is  an  occu- 
pation in  which  political  exiles  are  forbidden  to  engage. 
Besides  giving  lessons,  the  women  sew  and  embroider,  and 
earn  a  little  money  in  that  way.  They  are  allowed  to  write 
and  receive  letters,  as  well  as  to  have  unobjectionable  books 
and  periodicals;  and  although  they  are  nominally  under 
police  surveillance,  they  enjoy  a  good  deal  of  personal 
freedom." 

"  What  is  the  nature  of  the  crimes  for  which  these  young 
people  were  banished  ?  "  I  inquired.  "  Were  they  conspir- 
ators? Did  they  take  part  in  plots  to  assassinate  the 
Tsar  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ! "  said  Mr.  Pavlovski  with  a  smile ;  "  they  were 
only  nehlagonadiozhni  [untrustworthy].  Some  of  them  be- 
longed to  forbidden  societies,  some  imported  or  were  in 
possession  of  forbidden  books,  some  had  friendly  relations 
with  other  more  dangerous  offenders,  and  some  were  con- 
nected with  disorders  in  the  higher  schools  and  the  univer- 
sities. The  greater  part  of  them  are  administrative  exiles 
—  that  is,  persons  whom  the  Government,  for  various  rea- 


OUR   FIRST   MEETING   WITH   POLITICAL   EXILES  173 

sons,  has  thought  it  expedient  to  remove  from  their  homes 
and  put  under  police  surveillance  in  a  part  of  the  empire 
where  they  can  do  no  harm.  The  real  conspirators  and 
revolutionists  —  the  men  and  women  who  have  actually- 
been  engaged  in  criminal  activity  —  are  sent  to  more  re- 
mote pai'ts  of  Siberia  and  into  penal  servitude.  Banish- 
ment to  the  steppe  territories  is  regarded  as  a  very  light 
punishment ;  and,  as  a  rule,  only  administrative  exiles  are 
sent  here." 

In  reply  to  further  questions  with  regard  to  the  character 
of  these  political  exiles,  Mr.  Pavlovski  said,  "  I  don't  know 
anything  to  their  discredit ;  they  behave  themselves  well 
enough  here.  If  you  are  really  interested  in  them,  I  can, 
perhaps,  help  you  to  an  acquaintance  with  some  of  them, 
and  then  you  can  draw  your  own  conclusions  as  to  their 
character." 

Of  course  I  assured  Mr.  Pavlovski  that  an  introduction 
to  the  politicals  would  give  me  more  pleasure  than  any 
other  favor  he  could  confer  upon  me.  He  thereupon  sug- 
gested that  we  should  go  at  once  to  see  a  young  political 
exile  named  Lobonofski,  who  was  engaged  in  painting  a 
drop-curtain  for  the  little  town  theater. 

"  He  is  something  of  an  artist,"  said  Mr.  Pavlovski,  "  and 
has  a  few  Siberian  sketches.  You  are  making  and  col- 
lecting such  sketches:  of  course  you  want  to  see  them." 

"Certainly,"  I  replied  with  acquiescent  diplomacy. 
"  Sketches  are  my  hobby,  and  I  am  a  connoisseur  in  drop- 
curtains.  Even  although  the  artist  be  a  nihilist  and  an 
exile,  I  must  see  his  pictures." 

Mr.  Pavlovski's  droshhj  was  at  the  door,  and  we  drove 
at  once  to  the  house  where  Mr.  Lobonofski  was  at  work. 

I  find  it  extremely  difficult  now,  after  a  whole  year  of 
intimate  association  with  political  exiles,  to  recall  the  im- 
pressions that  I  had  of  them  before  I  made  the  acquain- 
tance of  the  exile  colony  in  Semipalatinsk.  I  know  that 
I  was  prejudiced  against  them,  and  that  I  expected  them 


174  SIBERIA 

to  bo  wholly  unlike  the  rational,  cultivated  men  and  women 
whom  one  nirots  in  civilized  society ;  but  I  cannot,  by  any 
exercise  of  will,  bring  back  the  unreal,  fantastic  conception 
of  them  that  I  had  when  I  crossed  the  Siberian  frontier.  As 
nearly  as  I  can  now  remember,  I  regarded  the  people  whom 
I  called  nihilists  as  sullen,  and  more  or  less  incomprehen- 
sible "  cranks,"  with  some  education,  a  great  deal  of  fanat- 
ical courage,  and  a  limitless  capacity  for  self-sacrifice,  but 
with  the  most  visionary  ideas  of  government  and  social 
organization,  and  with  only  the  faintest  trace  of  what  an 
American  would  call  "hard  common-sense."  I  did  not 
expect  to  have  any  more  ideas  in  common  with  them  than 
I  should  have  in  common  with  an  anarchist  like  Louis 
Lingg ;  and  although  I  intended  to  give  their  case  against 
the  Government  a  fair  hearing,  I  believed  that  the  result 
would  be  a  confii*mation  of  the  judgment  I  had  already 
formed.  Even  after  all  that  Mr.  Pavlovski  had  said  to 
me,  I  think  I  more  than  half  expected  to  find  in  the  drop- 
curtain  artist  a  long-haired,  wild-eyed  being  who  would 
pour  forth  an  incoherent  recital  of  wrongs  and  outrages, 
denounce  all  governmental  restraint  as  brutal  tyranny, 
and  expect  me  to  approve  of  the  assassination  of  Alex- 
ander II. 

The  log  house  occupied  by  Mr.  Lobonofski  as  a  work-shop 
was  not  otherwise  tenanted,  and  we  entered  it  without 
announcement.  As  Mr.  Pavlovski  threw  open  the  door,  I 
saw,  standing  before  a  large  square  sheet  of  canvas  which 
covered  one  whole  side  of  the  room,  a  blond  young  man, 
apparently  about  thirty  years  of  age,  dressed  from  head  to 
foot  in  a  suit  of  cool  brown  linen,  holding  in  one  hand  an 
artist's  brush,  and  in  the  other  a  plate  or  palette  covered 
with  freshly  mixed  colors.  His  strongly  built  figure  was 
erect  and  well-proportioned ;  his  bearing  was  that  of  a  cul- 
tivated gentleman  ;  and  he  made  upon  me,  from  the  first,  a 
pleasant  and  favorable  impression.  He  seemed,  in  fact,  to 
be  an  excellent  specimen  of  the  blond    type   of  Russian 


OUR   FIRST   MEETING   WITH   POLITICAL,   EXILES  175 

young  manhood.  His  eyes  were  clear  and  blue ;  his  thick, 
light-brown  hair  was  ill  cut,  and  rumpled  a  little  in  a  boyish 
way  over  the  high  forehead ;  the  full  blond  beard  gave  man- 
liness and  dignity  to  his  well-shaped  head,  and  his  frank, 
open,  good-tempered  face,  flushed  a  little  with  heat  and  wet 
with  perspiration,  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  face  of  a  warm- 
hearted and  impulsive  but,  at  the  same  time,  strong  and 
well-balanced  man.  It  was,  at  any  rate,  a  face  strangely  out 
of  harmony  with  all  my  preconceived  ideas  of  a  nihilist. 

Mr.  Pavlovski  introduced  me  to  the  young  artist  as  an 
American  traveler,  who  was  interested  in  Siberian  scenery, 
who  had  heard  of  his  sketches,  and  who  would  like  very 
much  to  see  some  of  them.  Mr.  Lobonofski  greeted  me 
quietly  but  cordially,  and  at  once  brought  out  the  sketches 
— apologizing,  however,  for  their  imperfections,  and  asking 
us  to  remember  that  they  had  been  made  in  prison,  on 
coarse  writing-paper,  and  that  the  out-door  views  were 
limited  to  landscapes  that  could  be  seen  from  prison  and 
etax^e  windows.  The  sketches  were  evidently  the  work  of 
an  untrained  hand,  and  were  mostly  representations  of  prison 
and  etape  interiors,  portraits  of  political  exiles,  and  such  bits 
of  towns  and  villages  as  could  be  seen  from  the  windows  of 
the  various  cells  that  the  artist  had  occupied  in  the  course 
of  his  journey  to  Siberia.  They  all  had,  however,  a  certain 
rude  force  and  fidelity,  and  one  of  them  served  as  material 
for  the  sketch  illustrating  the  Tinmen  prison-yard  on 
page  85. 

My  conversation  with  Mr.  Lobonofski  at  this  interview 
did  uot  touch  political  questions,  and  was  confined,  for  the 
most  part,  to  topics  suggested  by  the  sketches.  He  described 
his  journey  to  Siberia  just  as  he  would  have  described  it 
if  he  had  made  it  voluntarily,  and,  but  for  an  occasional 
reference  to  a  prison  or  an  etape^  there  was  nothing  in  the 
recital  to  remind  one  that  he  was  a  nihilist  and  an  exile. 
His  manner  was  quiet,  modest,  and  frank  ;  he  followed  any 
conversational  lead  with  ready  tact,  and  although  I  watched 


171)  SIBEKIA 

him  closely  I  could  not  detect  the  slightest  indication  of 
eccentricity  or  ''  crankiness."  He  must  have  felt  conscious 
that  I  was  secretly  regarding  him  with  critical  curiosity, — 
looking  at  him,  in  fact,  as  one  looks  for  the  first  time  at  an 
extraordinary  type  of  criminal, —  but  he  did  not  manifest  the 
least  awkwardness,  embarrassment,  or  self-consciousness. 
He  was  simply  a  quiet,  well-bred,  self-possessed  gentleman. 

AVhen  we  took  our  leave,  after  half  an  hour's  conversation, 
Mr.  Lobonofski  cordially  invited  me  to  bring  Mr.  Frost  to 
see  him  that  evening  at  his  house,  and  said  that  he  would 
have  a  few  of  his  friends  there  to  meet  us.  I  thanked  him 
and  promised  that  we  would  come. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Pavlovski,  as  the  door  closed  behind  us, 
"  what  do  you  think  of  the  political  exile  ?  " 

"He  makes  a  very  favorable  impression  upon  me,"  I 
replied.     "  Ai*e  they  all  like  him  ? " 

"  No,  not  precisely  like  him ;  but  they  are  not  bad  people. 
There  is  another  interesting  political  in  the  city  whom  you 
ought  to  see — a  young  man  named  Leantief.  He  is  em- 
ployed in  the  office  of  Mr.  Makovetski,  a  justice  of  the 
peace  here,  and  is  engaged  with  the  latter  in  making  an- 
thropological researches  among  the  Kirghis.  I  believe  they 
are  now  collecting  material  for  a  monograph  upon  Kirghis 
customary  law.*  Why  should  n't  you  call  upon  Mr.  Mak- 
ovetski ?  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  would  introduce  Mr. 
Leantief  to  you,  and  I  am  sure  that  you  would  find  them 
both  to  be  intelligent  and  cultivated  men." 

This  seemed  to  me  a  good  suggestion;  and  as  soon  as 
Mr.  Pavlovski  had  left  me  I  paid  a  visit  to  Mr.  Makovet- 
ski, ostensibly  for  the  purpose  of  asking  permission  to 
sketch  some  of  the  Kirghis  implements  and  utensils  in  the 
town  library,  of  which  he  was  one  of  the  directors.  Mr. 
Makovetski  seemed  pleased  to  learn  that  I  was  interested 
in  their  little  library,  granted  me  permission  to  sketch  the 

1  This  monograph  has  since  been  published  in  the  ''Proceedings  of  the  West 
Siberian  Branch  of  the  Imperial  Geographical  Society." 


OUK   FIKST   MEETING   WITH   POLITICAL   EXILES  177 

specimens  of  Klrghis  handiwork  there  exhibited,  and  finally 
introduced  me  to  his  writing-clerk,  Mr.  Leantief,  who,  he 
said,  had  made  a  special  study  of  the  Klrghis,  and  could 
give  me  any  desired  information  concerning  the  natives  of 
that  tribe. 

Mr.  Leantief  was  a  good-looking  young  fellow,  apparentl}^ 
about  twenty-five  years  of  age,  rather  below  the  medium 
height,  with  light-brown  hair  and  beard,  intelligent  gray 
eyes,  a  slightly  aquiline  nose,  and  a  firm,  well-rounded  chin. 
His  head  and  face  were  suggestive  of  studious  and  scien- 
tific tastes,  and  if  I  had  met  him  in  Washington  and  had 
been  asked  to  guess  his  profession  from  his  appearance,  I 
should  have  said  that  he  was  probably  a  young  scientist 
connected  with  the  United  States  Geological  Survey,  the 
Smithsonian  Institution,  or  the  National  Museum.  He 
was,  as  I  subsequently  learned,  the  son  of  an  army  officer 
who  at  one  time  commanded  the  Cossack  garrison  in  this 
same  city  of  Semipalatinsk.  As  a  boy  he  was  enrolled  in 
the  corps  of  imperial  pages,  and  began  his  education  in 
the  large  school  established  by  the  Government  for  the 
training  of  such  pages  in  the  Russian  capital.  At  the  age 
of  eighteen  or  nineteen  he  entered  the  St.  Petersburg  Uni- 
versity, and  in  the  fourth  year  of  his  student  life  was 
arrested  and  exiled  by  "  administrative  jorocess "  to  West- 
ern Siberia  for  five  years,  upon  the  charge  of  having  had 
secret  communication  with  political  prisoners  in  the  for- 
tress of  Petropavlovsk. 

Although  Mr.  Leantief's  bearing  was  somewhat  more 
formal  and  reserved  than  that  of  Mr.  Lobonofski,  and  his 
attitude  toward  me  one  of  cool,  observant  criticism,  rather 
than  of  friendly  confidence,  he  impressed  me  very  favorably; 
and  when,  after  half  an  hour's  conversation,  I  returned  to 
my  hotel,  I  was  forced  to  admit  to  myself  that  if  all  nihilists 
were  like  the  two  whom  I  had  met  in  Semipalatinsk,  I 
should  have  to  modify  my  opinions  with  regard  to  them. 
In  point  of  intelligence  and  education  Mr.  Lobonofski  and 
12 


178  SIBERIA 

Mr.  Leautiof  seemed  to  me  to  compare  favorably  with  any 
young  men  of  my  acquaintance. 

At  eight  o'clock  that  evening  Mr.  Frost  and  I  knocked 
at  Mr.  Lobonofski's  door,  and  were  promptly  admitted  and 
cordially  welcomed.  We  found  him  living  in  a  small  log 
lunise  not  far  from  our  hotel.  The  apartment  into  which 
we  were  shown,  and  which  served  in  the  double  capacity  of 
sitting-room  and  bed-room,  was  very  small — not  larger,  I 
think,  than  ten  feet  in  width  by  fourteen  feet  in  length. 
Its  log  walls  and  board  ceiling  were  covered  with  dingy 
whitewash,  and  its  floor  of  rough  unmatched  planks  was 
bare.  Against  a  rude,  unpainted  partition  to  the  right  of 
the  door  stood  a  small  single  bedstead  of  stained  wood, 
covered  with  neat  but  rather  scanty  bed-clothing,  and  in  the 
corner  beyond  it  was  a  triangular  table,  upon  which  were 
lying,  among  other  books,  Herbert  Spencer's  "  Essays : 
Moral,  Political,  and  Esthetic,"  and  the  same  author's 
"  Principles  of  Psychology."  The  opposite  corner  of  the 
room  was  occupied  by  a  what-not,  or  etagere,  of  domestic 
manufacture,  upon  the  shelves  of  which  were  a  few  more 
books,  a  well-filled  herbarium,  of  coarse  brown  wrapping- 
paper,  an  opera-glass,  and  an  English  New  Testament. 
Between  two  small  deeply  set  windows  opening  into  the 
court-yard  stood  a  large,  unpainted  wooden  table,  without 
a  cloth,  upon  which  was  lying,  open,  the  book  that  Mr. 
Lobonofski  had  been  reading  when  we  entered — a  French 
translation  of  Balfour  Stewart's  "  Conservation  of  Energy." 
There  was  no  other  furniture  in  the  apartment  except  three 
or  four  unpainted  wooden  chairs.  Everything  was  scrupu- 
lously neat  and  clean  •,  but  the  room  looked  like  the  home 
of  a  man  too  poor  to  afford  anything  more  than  the  barest 
essentials  of  life. 

After  Mr.  Lobonofski  had  made  a  few  preliminary  inqui- 
ries with  regard  to  the  object  of  our  journey  to  Siberia,  and 
had  expressed  the  pleasure  which  he  said  it  afforded  him  to 
meet  and  welcome  Americans  in  his  own  house,  he  turned 


OUR   FIEST   MEETING   WITH   POLITICAL   EXILES  179 

to  me  with  a  smile  and  said,  "  I  suppose,  Mr.  Kennan,  you 
have  heard  terrible  stories  in  America  about  the  Russian 
nihilists  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  replied ;  "  we  seldom  hear  of  them  except  in 
connection  with  a  plot  to  blow  up  something  or  to  kill  some- 
body, and  I  must  confess  that  I  have  had  a  bad  opinion  of 
them.  The  very  word  '  nihilist '  is  understood  in  America 
to  mean  a  person  who  does  not  believe  in  anything  and  who 
advocates  the  destruction  of  all  existing  institutions." 

"'Nihilist'  is  an  old  nickname,"  he  said;  "and  it  is  no 
longer  applicable  to  the  Russian  revolutionary  party,  if, 
indeed,  it  was  ever  applicable.  I  don 't  think  you  will  find 
among  the  political  exiles  in  Siberia  any  '  nihilists,'  in  the 
sense  in  which  you  use  the  word.  Of  course  there  are,  in 
what  may  be  called  the  anti-Government  class,  people  who 
hold  all  sorts  of  political  opinions.  There  are  a  few  w^ho 
believe  in  the  so-called  policy  of  '  terror ' — who  regard 
themselves  as  justified  in  resorting  even  to  political  assas- 
sination as  a  means  of  overthrowing  the  Government ;  but 
even  the  terrorists  do  not  propose  to  destroy  all  existing 
institutions.  Every  one  of  them,  I  think,  would  lay  down 
his  arms,  if  the  Tsar  would  grant  to  Russia  a  constitutional 
form  of  government  and  guarantee  free  speech,  a  free  press, 
and  freedom  from  arbitrary  arrest,  imprisonment,  and  exile. 
Have  you  ever  seen  the  letter  sent  by  the  Russian  revolu- 
tionists to  Alexander  III.  upon  his  accession  to  the  throne?" 

"  No,"  I  replied ;  "  I  have  heard  of  it,  but  have  never 
seen  it." 

"  It  sets  forth,"  he  said,  "  the  aims  and  objects  of  the 
revolutionary  party,  and  contains  a  distinct  promise  that 
if  the  Tsar  will  grant  freedom  of  speech  and  summon  a 
national  assembly  the  revolutionists  will  abstain  from  all 
further  violence,  and  will  agree  not  to  oppose  any  form  of 
government  which  such  assembly  may  sanction.^  You  can 
hardly  say  that  people  who  express  a  willingness  to  enter 

1  See  appendix  C. 


180  SIBERIA 

iuto  suoli  ail  ajiTeenient  as  this  are  in  favor  of  the  destruction 
of  all  existing-  institutions.  I  suppose  you  know,"  he  con- 
tinued, "that  when  your  President  Garfield  was  assassinated, 
the  columns  of  '  The  Will  of  the  People '  [the  organ  of  the 
Russian  revolutionists  in  Geneva]  were  bordered  with  black 
as  a  token  of  grief  and  sympathy,  and  that  the  paper  con- 
tained an  eloquent  editorial  condemning  political  assassina- 
tion as  wholly  unjustifiable  in  a  country  where  there  are  open 
courts  and  a  free  press,  and  where  the  officers  of  the  govern- 
ment are  chosen  by  a  free  vote  of  the  people  ? " 

"  No,"  I  replied ;  "  I  was  not  aware  of  it." 

"  It  is  true,"  he  rejoined.  "  Of  course  at  that  time  Gar- 
field's murder  was  regarded  as  a  political  crime,  and  as 
such  it  was  condemned  in  Russia,  even  by  the  most  extreme 
terrorists." 

Our  conversation  was  interrupted  at  this  point  by  the 
entrance  of  three  young  men  and  a  lady,  who  were  intro- 
duced to  us  as  Mr.  Lobonofski's  exiled  friends.  In  the 
appearance  of  the  young  men  there  was  nothing  partic- 
ularly striking  or  noticeable.  One  of  them  seemed  to  be 
a  bright  university  student,  twenty-four  or  twenty-five 
years  of  age,  and  the  other  two  looked  like  educated  peas- 
ants or  artisans,  whose  typically  Russian  faces  were  rather 
heavy,  impassive,  and  gloomy,  and  whose  manner  was 
lacking  in  animation  and  responsiveness.  Life  and  exile 
seemed  to  have  gone  hard  with  them,  and  to  have  left 
them  depressed  and  embittered.  The  lady,  whose  name 
was  Madame  Dicheskula,  represented  apparently  a  differ- 
ent social  class,  and  had  a  more  buoyant  and  sunny  dispo- 
sition. She  was  about  thirty  years  of  age,  tall  and  straight, 
with  a  well-proportioned  but  somewhat  spare  figure,  thick, 
short  brown  hair  falling  in  a  soft  mass  about  the  nape  of 
her  neck,  and  a  bright,  intelligent,  mobile  face,  which  I 
thought  must  once  have  been  extremely  pretty.  It  had  be- 
come, however,  a  little  too  thin  and  worn,  and  her  com- 
plexion had  been  freckled  and  roughened  by  exposure  to 


OUR   FIRST   MEETING   WITH   POLITICAL   EXILES  181 

wind  and  weather  and  by  the  hardships  of  prison  and  etape 
life.  She  was  neatly  and  becomingly  dressed  in  a  Scotch 
plaid  gown  of  soft  dark  serge,  with  little  ruffles  of  white  lace 
at  her  throat  and  wrists ;  and  when  her  face  lighted  up  in 
animated  conversation,  she  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  very 
attractive  and  interesting  woman.  In  her  demeanor  there 
was  not  a  suggestion  of  the  boldness,  hardness,  and  eccen- 
tricity that  I  had  expected  to  find  in  women  exiled  to 
Siberia  for  political  crime.  She  talked  rapidly  and  well ; 
laughed  merrily  at  times  over  reminiscences  of  her  journey 
to  Siberia ;  apologized  for  the  unwomanly  shortness  of  her 
hair,  which,  she  said,  had  all  been  cut  off  in  prison;  and 
related  with  a  keen  sense  of  humor  her  adventures  while 
crossing  the  Kirghis  steppe  from  Akmola  to  Semipalatinsk. 
That  her  natural  buoyancy  of  disposition  was  tempered  by 
deep  feeling  was  evident  from  the  way  in  which  she  de- 
scribed some  of  the  incidents  of  her  Siberian  experience. 
She  seemed  greatly  touched,  for  example,  by  the  kindness 
shown  to  her  party  by  the  peasants  of  Kamishlova,  a  village 
through  which  they  passed  on  their  way  from  Ekaterin- 
burg to  Tiumeu.  They  happened  to  arrive  there  on  Trinity 
Sunday,  and  were  surprised  to  find  that  the  villagers,  as  a 
manifestation  of  sympathy  with  the  political  exiles,  had 
thoroughly  scoured  out  and  freshened  up  the  old  village 
etape^  and  had  decorated  its  gloomy  cells  with  leafy  branches 
and  fresh  wild-flowers.  It  seemed  to  me  that  tears  came 
to  her  eyes  as  she  expressed  her  deep  and  grateful  appre- 
ciation of  this  act  of  thoughtfulness  and  good-will  on  the 
part  of  the  Kamishlova  peasants. 

About  nine  o'clock  Mr.  Lobonofski  brought  in  a  steaming 
samovar,  Madame  Dicheskula  made  tea,  and  throughout 
the  remainder  of  the  evening  we  sat  all  around  the  big 
pine  table  as  if  we  had  been  acquainted  for  months  instead 
of  hours,  talking  about  the  Russian  revolutionary  move- 
ment, the  exile  system,  literature,  art,  science,  and  American 
politics.    The  cool,  reasonable  way  in  which  these  exiles 


18i!  SIBERIA 

discussed  public  affairs,  problems  of  government,  and  their 
personal  experience  impressed  me  very  favorably.  There 
was  none  of  the  bitterness  of  feeling  and  extravagance  of 
statement  that  I  had  anticipated,  and  I  did  not  notice  in 
their  conversation  the  least  tendency  to  exaggerate  or  even 
to  dwell  upon  their  own  sufferings  as  a  means  of  exciting 
our  sympathy.  Madame  Dicheskula,  for  instance,  had  been 
robbed  of  most  of  her  clothing  and  personal  effects  by  the 
police  at  the  time  of  her  arrest ;  had  spent  more  than  a  year 
in  solitary  confinement  in  the  Moscow  forwarding  prison ; 
had  then  been  banished,  without  trial,  to  a  dreary  settle- 
ment in  the  Siberian  province  of  Akmolinsk ;  and,  finally, 
had  been  brought  across  the  great  Kirghis  steppe  in  winter 
to  the  city  of  Semipalatinsk.  In  all  this  experience  there 
must  have  been  a  great  deal  of  intense  personal  suffering ; 
but  she  did  not  lay  half  as  much  stress  upon  it  in  conversa- 
tion as  she  did  upon  the  decoration  of  the  old  etape  with 
leafy  branches  and  flowers  by  the  people  of  Kamishlova,  as 
an  expression  of  sympathy  with  her  and  her  exiled  friends. 
About  eleven  o'clock,  after  a  most  pleasant  and  interesting 
evening,  we  bade  them  all  good-night  and  returned  to  our 
hotel. 

On  the  following  morning  Mr.  Lobonofski,  Madame  Dich- 
eskula, Mr.  Frost,  and  I  took  droshhies  and  drove  down  the 
right  bank  of  the  Irtish  a  mile  or  two,  to  a  small  grove  of 
poplars  and  aspens  near  the  water's  edge,  where  six  or 
eight  political  exiles  were  spending  the  summer  in  camp. 
A  large  Kirghis  yiirt  of  felt,  and  two  or  three  smaller  cotton 
tents,  had  been  pitched  on  the  grass  under  the  trees,  and 
in  them  were  living  two  or  three  young  women  and  four 
or  five  young  men,  who  had  taken  this  means  of  escaping 
from  the  heat,  glare,  and  sand  of  the  verdureless  city. 
Two  of  the  women  were  mere  girls,  seventeen  or  eighteen 
years  of  age,  who  looked  as  if  they  ought  to  be  pursuing 
their  education  in  a  high  school  or  a  female  seminary,  and 
why  they  had  been  exiled  to  Siberia  I  could  not  imagine. 


OUK   FIRST   MEETING   WITH   POLITICAL   EXILES  183 

It  did  not  seem  to  me  possible  that  they  could  be  regarded 
in  any  country,  or  under  any  circumstances,  as  a  danger- 
ous menace  to  social  order  or  to  the  stability  of  the  Gov- 
ernment. As  I  shook  hands  with  them  and  noticed  their 
shy,  embarrassed  behavior,  and  the  quick  flushes  of  color 
which  came  to  their  cheeks  when  I  spoke  to  them,  I  experi- 
enced for  the  first  time  something  like  a  feeling  of  con- 
tempt for  the  Eussian  Government.  "  Jf  I  were  the  Tsar," 
I  said  to  Mr.  Frost,  "and  had  an  army  of  soldiers  and 
police  at  my  back,  and  if,  nevertheless,  I  felt  so  afraid  of 
timid,  half-grown  school-girls  that  I  could  n't  sleep  in 
peaceful  security  until  I  had  banished  them  to  Siberia,  I 
think  I  should  abdicate  in  favor  of  some  stronger  and 
more  courageous  man."  The  idea  that  a  powerful  Govern- 
ment like  that  of  Russia  could  not  protect  itself  against 
seminary  girls  and  Sunday-school  teachers  without  tearing 
them  from  their  families,  and  isolating  them  in  the  middle 
of  a  great  Asiatic  desert,  seemed  to  me  not  only  ludicrous, 
but  absolutely  preposterous. 

We  spent  in  the  pleasant  shady  camp  of  these  political 
exiles  nearly  the  whole  of  the  long,  hot  summer  day.  Mr. 
Frost  made  sketches  of  the  picturesquely  grouped  tents, 
while  I  talked  with  the  young  men,  read  Irving  aloud  to 
one  of  them  who  was  studying  English,  answered  questions 
about  America,  and  asked  questions  in  turn  about  Siberia 
and  Russia.  Before  the  day  ended  we  were  upon  as  cor- 
dial and  friendly  a  footing  with  the  whole  party  as  if  we 
had  known  them  for  a  month. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  returned  to  the  city,  and  in  the 
evening  went  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Leantief,  where  most  of 
the  political  exiles  whom  we  had  not  yet  seen  had  been 
invited  to  meet  us.  The  room  into  which  we  were  ushered 
was  much  larger  and  better  furnished  than  that  in  which 
Mr.  Lobonofski  lived;  but  nothing  in  it  particularly  at- 
tracted my  attention  except  a  portrait  of  Herbert  Spencer, 
which  hung  on  the  wall  over  Mr.  Leantief's  desk.     There 


1g^  SIBEKIA 

\vi"r(>  twt'lvo  or  tit'tooii  exiles  present,  including  Mr.  Lobo- 
nofski,  M:ulanie  Dieheskiila,  Dr.  Bogomolets,— a  young  sur- 
gtH>n  \vlu)st>  wife  was  in  penal  servitude  at  the  mines  of 
Kara,— and  tlio  two  Prisedski  sisters,  to  whom  reference 
was  niado  in  my  article  upon  the  "Prison  Life  of  the  Rus- 
sian Rovohitionists,"  in  The  Cm  fun/  Maf/cmiiC  for  Decem- 
ber, 1887.  The  general  conversation  which  followed  our 
introiluction  to  the  assembled  company  was  bright,  ani- 
mated, and  informal.  Mr.  Leantief,  in  reply  to  questions 
from  me,  related  the  history  of  the  Semipalatinsk  library, 
and  said  that  it  had  not  only  been  a  great  boon  to  the 
political  exiles,  but  had  noticeably  stimulated  the  intellec- 
tual life  of  the  city.  "  Even  the  Kirghis,"  he  said,  "  occa- 
sionally avail  themselves  of  its  privileges.  I  know  a  learned 
old  Kirghis  here,  named  Ibrahim  Konobai,  who  not  only 
goes  to  the  library,  but  reads  such  authors  as  Buckle,  Mill, 
and  Draper." 

"  You  don 't  mean  to  say,"  exclaimed  a  young  university 
student,  "  that  there  is  any  old  Kirghis  in  Semipalatinsk 
who  actuaUy  reads  Mill  and  Draper  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  replied  Mr.  Leantief,  coolly.  "  The  very  first 
time  I  met  him  he  astonished  me  by  asking  me  to  explain 
to  him  the  difference  between  induction  and  deduction. 
Some  time  afterward  I  found  out  that  he  was  really  making 
a  study  of  Enghsh  philosophy,  and  had  read  Russian  trans- 
lations of  all  the  authors  that  I  have  named." 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  he  understood  what  he  read  I " 
inquired  the  university  student. 

'•  I  spent  two  w4iole  evenings  in  examining  him  upon 
Draper's  '  Intellectual  Development  of  Europe,' "  replied  Mr. 
Leantief ;  "  and  I  must  say  that  he  seemed  to  have  a  very 
fair  comprehension  of  it." 

"  I  notice,"  I  said,  "  that  a  large  number  of  books  in  the 
library — particularly  the  works  of  the  English  scientists — 
have  been  withdrawn  from  public  use,  although  all  of  them 
seem  once  to  have  passed  the  censor.     How  does  it  happen 


OUR   FIRST   MEETING   ^VITH   POLITICAL   EXILES  185 

that  books  are  at  one  time  allowed  and  at  another  time 
prohibited  I " 

"Our  censorship  is  very  capricious,"  replied  one  of  the 
exiles.  "  How  would  you  explain  the  fact  that  such  a  book 
as  Adam  Smith's  '  Wealth  of  Nations '  is  prohibited,  while 
Darwin's  '  Origin  of  Species '  and  '  Descent  of  Man '  are 
allowed  ?  The  latter  are  certainly  more  dangerous  than 
the  former." 

" It  has  been  suggested,"  said  another,  "that  the  list  of 
prohibited  books  was  made  up  by  putting  together,  without 
examination,  the  titles  of  all  books  found  by  the  police  in 
the  quarters  of  persons  arrested  for  political  offenses.  The 
'  Wealth  of  Nations '  happened  to  be  found  in  some  un- 
fortunate revolutionist's  house,  therefore  the  '  Wealth  of 
Nations '  must  be  a  dangerous  book." 

"  When  I  was  arrested,"  said  Mr.  Lobonofski,  "  the  police 
seized  and  took  away  even  a  French  history  that  I  had 
borrowed  from  the  public  library.  In  looking  hastily 
through  it  they  noticed  here  and  there  the  word  'revolution,' 
and  that  was  enough.  I  tried  to  make  them  understand 
that  a  French  history  must,  of  course,  treat  of  the  French 
Revolution,  but  it  was  of  no  use.  They  also  carried  off, 
under  the  impression  that  it  was  an  infernal  machine,  a 
rude  imitation  of  a  steam-engine  which  my  little  brother 
had  made  for  amusement  out  of  some  bits  of  wood  and 
metal  and  the  tubes  of  an  old  opera-glass."  Amidst  general 
laughter,  a  number  of  the  exiles  related  humorous  anecdotes 
illustrating  the  methods  of  the  Russian  police,  and  then  the 
conversation  drifted  into  other  channels. 

As  an  evidence  of  the  intelligence  and  cultui*e  of  these 
political  exiles,  and  of  the  wide  range  of  their  interests  and 
sympathies,  it  seems  to  me  worth  while  to  say  that  their 
conversation  showed  more  than  a  superficial  acquaintance 
with  the  best  English  and  American  literature,  as  well  as  a 
fairly  accurate  knowledge  of  American  institutions  and 
history.      Among  the   authors  referred   to,  discussed,  or 


186  SIBERIA 

quoted  l.y  tlioin  that  ovoiiiiig  were  Shakspere,  Mill,  Spen- 
oer,  Buckle,  Balt'ouv  Stewart,  Heine,  Hegel,  Lange,  Irving, 
Cooper,  Longfellow,  Bret  Harte,  and  Harriet  Beeclier  Stowe. 
Tliey  knew  the  name  and  something  of  the  record  of  our 
newiy  elected  Pi-esident,  discussed  intelligently  his  civil- 
service  reform  policy  and  asked  pertinent  questions  with 
regard  to  its  working,  and  manifested  generally  an  acquain- 
tance with  American  att'airs  that  one  does  not  expect  to 
tind  anywhere  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  least 
of  all  in  Siberia. 

After  a  plain  hut  substantial  supper,  with  delicious  over- 
land tea,  the  exiles  sang  for  us  in  chorus  some  of  the 
plaintive  popular  melodies  of  Russia,  and  Mr.  Frost  and  I 
tried,  in  turn,  to  give  them  an  idea  of  our  college  songs,  our 
war  songs,  and  the  music  of  the  American  negroes.  It  must 
have  been  nearly  midnight  when  we  reluctantly  bade  them 
all  good-by  and  returned  to  the  Hotel  Sibir. 

It  is  impossible,  of  course,  to  give  even  the  substance  of 
the  long  conversations  concerning  the  Eussian  Government 
and  the  Russian  revolutionary  movement  which  I  had  with 
the  political  exiles  in  Semipalatinsk.  All  that  I  aim  to  do 
at  present  is  to  describe,  as  fairly  and  accurately  as  possible, 
the  impression  that  these  exiles  made  upon  me.  If  I  may 
judge  others  by  myself,  American  readers  have  had  an  idea 
that  the  people  who  are  called  nihilists  stand  apart  from  the 
rest  of  mankind  in  a  class  by  themselves,  and  that  there  is 
in  their  character  something  fierce,  gloomy,  abnormal,  and, 
to  a  sane  mind,  incomprehensible,  which  alienates  from 
them,  and  which  should  alienate  from  them,  the  sympathies 
of  the  civilized  world.  If  the  political  exiles  in  Semipala- 
tinsk be  taken  as  fair  representatives  of  the  class  thus 
judged,  the  idea  seems  to  me  to  be  a  wholly  mistaken  one. 
I  found  them  to  be  bright,  intelligent,  well-informed  men 
and  women,  with  warm  affections,  quick  sympathies,  gener- 
ous impulses,  and  high  standards  of  honor  and  duty.  They 
are,  as  Mr.  Pavlovski  said  to  me,  "men  and  women  who. 


OUR   FIRST   MEETING   WITH   POLITICAL   EXILES  187 

under  other  circumstances,  might  render  valuable  services 
to  their  country."  If,  instead  of  thus  serving  their  country, 
they  are  living  in  exile,  it  is  not  because  they  are  lacking  in 
the\drtue  and  the  patriotism  that  are  essential  to  good 
citizenship,  but  because  the  Government,  which  assumes 
the  right  to  think  and  act  for  the  Russian  people,  is  out  of 
harmony  with  the  spirit  of  the  time. 


CHAPTER  IX 

BRIDLE   PATHS   OF   THE   ALTAI 

OX  Saturday,  July  18th,  after  having  inspected  the  city 
prison,  ol)taine(I  as  much  information  as  possible  con- 
cerning the  exile  system,  and  made  farewell  calls  upon  our 
friends,  we  provided  ourselves  with  a  new  padarozhnaya 
and  left  Semipalatinsk  with  three  post-horses  for  the  moun- 
tains of  the  Altai.  The  wild  alpine  region  that  we  hoped 
to  explore  lies  along  the  frontier  of  Mongolia,  about  350 
miles  east  of  Semipalatinsk  and  nearly  600  miles  due  south 
from  Tomsk.  The  German  travelers  Finsch  and  Brehm 
went  to  the  edge  of  it  in  1876,  but  the  high  snowy  peaks  of 
the  Katunski  and  Chuiski  Alps,  east  of  the  Altai  Station, 
had  never  been  seen  by  a  foreigner,  and  had  been  visited 
by  very  few  Russians. 

For  nearly  two  hundred  versts,  after  leaving  Semipala- 
tinsk, we  rode  up  the  right  bank  of  the  Irtish,  through  a 
great  rolling  steppe  of  dry,  yellowish  grass.  Here  and  there, 
where  this  steppe  was  irrigated  by  small  streams  running 
into  the  Irtish,  it  supported  a  luxuriant  vegetation,  the  little 
transverse  valleys  being  filled  with  wild  roses,  hollyhocks, 
goldenrod,  wild  currant  and  gooseberry  bushes,  and  splen- 
did spikes,  five  feet  in  height,  of  dark-blue  aconite  ;  but  in 
most  places  the  gi^eat  plain  was  sun-scorched  and  bare.  The 
Cossack  villages  through  which  we  passed  did  not  differ 
materially  from  those  between  Semipalatinsk  and  Omsk, 
except  tliat  their  log  houses  were  newer  and  in  better  repair, 
and  thcii-  inhabitants  seemed  to  be  wealthier  and  more 


BRIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI 


189 


prosperous.    The  Russian  love  of  crude  color  became  again 
apparent  in  the  dresses  of  the  women  and  girls;  and  on 


■'^-^■-   y^         '.'  •<■ 

St.Petersburg   '^"■-.-"^'^C-' — ^^ 

Moscow    \ 
6 


'er,.,s/:U 


MAP    OF    ROnXE    FROM    SEMIPALAtINSK    TO    THE    ALTAi. 


Sunday,  when  all  of  the  Cossacks  were  in  holiday  attire,  the 
streets  of  these  villages  were  bright  with  the  red,  blue,  and 
yellow  costumes  of  the  young  men  and  women,  who  sat  in 


190 


SIBEKIA 


rows  upon  benches  in  the  shade  of  the  houses,  talking, 
tlirting,  and  eating  melon  seeds,  or,  after  the  sun  had  gone 
ilownrdaneed  in  the  streets  to  the  music  of  fiddles  and 
triaiiu-nlar  u'uitars. 


COSSACK    PEASANT    UIKL    SPINNING. 


The  farther  we  went  up  the  Irtish  the  hotter  became  the 
weather  and  the  more  barren  the  steppe,  until  it  was  easy 
to  imagine  that  we  were  in  an  Arabian  or  a  north  African 
desert.  The  thermometer  ranged  day  after  day  from  90°  to 
103°  in  the  shade ;  the  atmosphere  was  suffocating ;  every 


BRIDLE   PATHS   OF   THE   ALTAI  llJl 

leaf  and  every  blade  of  grass,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach, 
had  been  absolutely  burned  dead  by  the  fierce  sunshine ; 
great  whirling  columns  of  sand,  100  to  150  feet  in  height, 
swept  slowly  and  majestically  across  the  sun-scorched 
plain ;  and  we  could  trace  the  progress  of  a  single  mounted 
Kirghis  five  miles  away  by  the  cloud  of  dust  that  his  horse's 
hoofs  raised  from  the  steppe.  I  suffered  intensely  from 
heat  and  thirst,  and  had  to  protect  myself  from  the  fierce 
sunshine  by  swathing  my  body  in  four  thicknesses  of 
blanket  and  putting  a  big  down  pillow  over  my  legs.     I 

»  could  not  hold  my  hand  in  that  sunshine  five  minutes  with- 
out pain,  and  wrapping  my  body  in  four  thicknesses  of 
heavy  woolen  blanketing  gave  me  at  once  a  sensation  of 
coolness.  Mine  was  the  southern  or  sunny  side  of  the 
tdrcDitds,  and  I  finally  became  so  exhausted  with  the  fierce 
heat,  and  had  such  a  strange  feeling  of  faintness,  nausea, 

.  and  suffocation,  that  I  asked  Mr.  Frost  to  change  sides  with 
me,  and  give  me  a  brief  respite.  He  wrapped  himself  up  in 
a  blanket,  put  a  pillow  over  his  legs,  and  managed  to  endure 
it  until  evening.  Familiar  as  I  supjDOsed  myself  to  be  with 
Siberia,  I  little  thought,  when  I  crossed  the  frontier,  that  I 
should  find  in  it  a  North  African  desert,  with  whirling  sand- 
columns,  and  sunshine  from  which  I  should  be  obliged  to 
protect  my  limbs  with  blankets.  I  laughed  at  a  Russian' 
officer  in  Omsk  who  told  me  that  the  heat  in  the  valley  of 
the  Irtish  was  often  so  intense  as  to  cause  nausea  and 
fainting,  and  who  advised  me  not  to  travel  between  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  morning  and  three  in  the  afternoon  when  the 
day  was  cloudless  and  hot.  The  idea  of  having  a  sunstroke 
in  Siberia,  and  the  suggestion  not  to  travel  there  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,  seemed  to  me  so  preposterous  that  I  could 
not  restrain  a  smile  of  amusement.  He  assured  me,  how- 
ever, that  he  was  talking  seriously,  and  said  that  he  had 
seen  soldiers  unconscious  for  hours  after  a  fit  of  nausea  and 
fainting,  brought  on  by  marching  in  the  sunshine.  He  did 
not  know  sunstroke  by  name,  and  seemed  to  think  that  the 


1V2 


SIBERIA 


symptoms  which  ho  doscribed  were  peculiar  effects  of  the 
Irtish  valley  heat,  but  it  was  evidently  sunstroke  that  he 

had  seen. 

At   the  station  of  Voroninskaya,  in   the  middle  of  this 
parched  desert,  we  were  ovei'taken  by  a  furious  hot  sand- 


_»i;i.iiii'iMi"' 


storm  from  the  southwest,  with  a  temperature  of  103°  in 
the  shade.  The  sand  and  fine  hot  dust  were  carried  to  a 
height  of  a  hundred  feet,  and  drifted  past  us  in  dense,  suf- 
focating clouds,  hiding  everything  from  sight  and  making 
it  almost  impossible  to  breathe.     Although  we  were  riding 


BRIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI  193 

with  the  storm,  and  not  against  it,  I  literally  gasped  for 
breath  for  more  than  two  hours ;  and  when  we  arrived  at 
the  station  of  Cheremshanka,  it  would  have  been  hard  to 
tell,  from  an  inspection  of  our  faces,  whether  we  were  Kir- 
ghis  or  Americans  —  black  men  or  white.  I  drank  nearly 
a  quart  of  cold  milk,  and  even  that  did  not  fully  assuage 
my  fierce  thirst.  Mr.  Frost,  after  washing  the  dust  out  of 
his  eyes  and  drinking  seven  tumblers  of  milk,  revived  suf- 
ficiently to  say,  "  If  anybody  thinks  that  it  does  n't  get  hot 
in  Siberia,  just  refer  him  to  me  ! " 

At  the  station  of  Malo  Ki'asnoyarskaya  we  left  the  Irtish 
to  the  right  and  saw  it  no  more.  Late  that  afternoon  we 
reached  the  first  foot-hills  of  the  great  mountain  range  of 
the  Altai,  and  began  the  long,  gradual  climb  to  the  Altai 
Station.  Before  dark  on  the  following  day  we  were  riding 
through  cool,  elevated  alpine  meadows,  where  the  fresh 
green  grass  was  intermingled  with  bluebells,  fragrant  spirea, 
gentians,  and  delicate  fringed  pinks,  and  where  the  moun- 
tain tops  over  our  heads  were  white,  a  thousand  feet  down, 
with  freshly  fallen  snow.  The  change  from  the  torrid  Af- 
rican desert  of  the  Irtish  to  this  superb  Siberian  Switzer- 
land was  so  sudden  and  so  extraordinary  as  to  be  almost 
bewildering.  I  could  not  hel]3  asking  myself  every  fifteen 
minutes,  "Did  I  only  dream  of  that  dreary,  sun-scorched 
steppe  yesterday,  with  its  sandspouts,  its  mountains  of 
furnace  slag,  its  fierce  heat,  and  its  whitening  bones,  or  is 
it  really  possible  that  I  can  have  come  from  that  to  this  in 
twenty-four  hours  f"  To  my  steppe- wearied  eyes,  the 
scenery,  as  we  approached  the  Altai  Station,  was  inde- 
scribably beautiful.  On  our  left  was  a  range  of  low  moun- 
tains, the  smooth  slopes  of  which  were  checkered  with 
purple  cloud  shadows  and  tinted  here  and  there  by  vast 
areas  of  flowers ;  on  our  right,  rising  almost  from  the  road, 
was  a  splendid  chain  of  bold,  grandly  sculptured  peaks 
from  seven  thousand  to  nine  thousand  feet  in  height, 
crowned  with  one  thousand  feet  of  fresh,  brilliantly  white 
13 


194 


SIBERIA 


snow,  aiul  hvhvd  with  u  broad  zone  of  evergreen  forest; 
beneath  lay  a  beautiful,  park-like  valley,  through  which 
ran  the  road,  under  the  shade  of  scattered  larches,  across 
clear,  rushing  mountain  streams  which  came  tumbling 
down  in  cascades  from  the  melting  snows  above,  and  over 
grassy  meadows  sprinkled  with  wild  pansies,  gentians, 
fringed  pinks,  and  ripening  strawberries.  After  three  thou- 
sand miles  of  almost  unbroken  plain,  or  steppe,  this  scene 


THE    ALtIi    station. 


made  upon  me  a  profound  impression.  We  reached  the 
Altai  Station  about  six  o'clock  in  the  cool  of  a  beautiful, 
calm,  midsummer  afternoon.  I  shall  never  forget  the  enthu- 
siastic delight  that  I  felt  as  I  rode  up  out  of  a  wooded  valley 
fragrant  with  wild-flowers,  past  a  picturesque  cluster  of 
colored  Kirghis  tents,  across  two  hundred  yards  of  smooth, 
elevated  meadow,  and  then,  stopping  at  the  entrance  to  the 
village,  turned  back  and  looked  at  the  mountains.  Never, 
I  thought,  had  I  seen  an  alpine  picture  that  could  for  a 
moment  bear  comparison  with  it.     I  have  seen  the  most 


BRIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI  195 

beautiful  sceuery  iu  the  mouutaius  of  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
of  Nicaragua,  of  Kamchatka,  of  the  Caucasus,  and  of  the 
Russian  Altai,  and  it  is  my  deliberate  opinion  that  for  varied 
beauty,  picturesqueness,  and  effectiveness  that  mountain 
landscape  is  absolutely  unsurpassed.  If  there  exist  any- 
where a  more  superbly  situated  village,  I  am  ready  to  cross 
three  oceans  to  see  it. 

The  Altai  Station,  or,  as  the  Kirghis  call  it,  "  Koton  Kara- 
ghai,"  is  situated  at  a  height  of  about  thirty-five  hundred 
feet  in  the  upper  part  of  the  fertile  alpine  valley  known  as 
the  valley  of  the  Biikhtarma.  The  village  stands  upon  a 
small,  flat  terrace  or  plateau  two  or  three  miles  square,  which 
is  bounded  on  the  north  by  rolling,  flowery  foot-hills  and 
on  the  south  by  a  shallow  wooded  ravine  through  which 
flows  an  insignificant  tributary  of  the  Bukhtarma  River. 
The  main  street  of  the  little  hamlet  runs  parallel  with  the 
ravine,  and  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  latter  rise  abruptly 
three  or  four  grandly  sculptured  peaks,  whose  steep  slopes 
are  clothed  to  a  height  of  two  or  three  thousand  feet  with 
larch  forests,  and  above  that  are  generally  white,  even  iu 
midsummer,  with  fresh-fallen  snow.  The  village  itself  is 
a  mere  Cossack  picket  of  seventy  or  eighty  log  houses,  with 
wide,  clean  streets,  and  mth  a  quaint  log  chui'ch  at  one  end  ; 
but  to  a  traveler  just  from  the  hot,  arid  plains  of  the  Irtish 
even  this  insignificant  Cossack  station  has  its  peculiar 
charm.  In  front  of  every  house  in  the  settlement  is  a  little 
inclosure,  or  front  yard,  filled  with  young  birches,  silver- 
leafed  aspens,  and  flowering  shrubs,  and  through  all  of  these 
yards,  down  each  side  of  every  street  runs  a  tinkling,  gur- 
gling stream  of  clear,  cold  water  from  the  melting  snows 
on  the  mountains.  The  whole  village,  therefore,  go  where 
you  will,  is  filled  with  the  murmur  of  falling  water;  and 
how  pleasant  that  sound  is,  you  must  travel  for  a  month 
in  the  parched,  dust-smothered,  sun-scorched  valley  of  the 
Irtish  fully  to  understand.  The  little  rushing  streams  seem 
to  bring  with  them,  as  they  tumble  in  rapids  through  the 


iiu; 


SIBERIA 


settltMiieiit,  the  fre.^li,  cool  atmosphere  of  the  high  peaks 
where  they  were  boru  two  hours  before ;  and  although  your 
theniioineter  may  say  that  the  day  is  hot  aud  the  air  sul- 
try, its  statements  are  so  pei-sistently,  so  confidently,  so 
hilariously  controverted  by  the  joyous  voice  of  the  stream 
under  your  window,  with  its  half- expressed  suggestions  of 
snow  and  i;-laciers  and  cooling  spray,  that  your  reason  is 


OUK    HOUSE    AT    THE    ALTAI    STATION. 


silenced  and  your  imagination  accepts  the  story  of  the 
snow-born  brook. 

The  morning  after  our  arrival  at  the  Altai  Station  dawned 
clear,  cool,  and  bright,  and  after  a  good  breakfast  served  by 
the  wife  of  the  Cossack  in  whose  house  we  had  found 
shelter,  we  went  out  to  survey  the  village.  Mr.  Frost,  who 
was  equipped  with  sketching-block  and  i^encils,  soon  dis- 
covered a  desirable  point  of  view  for  a  picture  and,  having 
hired  a  burly  Cossack  to  stand  beside  him  in  such  a 
position  as  to  throw  the  shadow  of  his  body  across  the 
paper,  and  thus  serve  as  a  sun-umbrella,  he  went  to  work. 
Meanwhile  I  strolled  through  the  village  and  out  past  the 
quaint  log  church  in  the  direction  of  the  village  shops  which, 
with  the  Government   storehouses,  were  situated  on  the 


BRIDLE   PATHS   OF   THE   ALTAI  197 

eastern  side  of  the  plateau.  Three  or  four  hundred  yards 
from  the  church,  hi  the  middle  of  the  flowery  plain,  a  com- 
pany of  Cossacks,  dressed  in  dark-green  uniforms  and 
armed  with  Berdan  rifles,  were  practising  what  seemed  to 
be  the  Russian  skirmish  drill.  They  had  been  divided  into 
three  squads,  each  of  which,  under  the  direction  of  an 
oflacer,  was  manoeuvering  against  an  imaginary  enemy. 
Now  they  would  rush  forward  at  "  double-quick,"  firing  at 
will  as  they  advanced,  then  they  would  suddenly  close  up, 
throw  themselves  at  full  length  on  the  ground,  and  in  that 
position  deliver  volley  after  volley  until  they  were  hidden 
in  powder  smoke,  and  finally  the  three  squads  would  unite 
and  charge  fiercely  in  solid  column,  with  the  peculiar  con- 
tinuous Russian  "  oor-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah ! "  which  has  been 
heard  with  anxiety  and  dread  by  the  defenders  of  many  a 
Turkish  redoubt. 

The  shops  of  the  Altai  Station  were  only  three  or  four  in 
number,  and  I  found  in  them  few  things  that  were  either 
curious  or  interesting.  Perhaps,  however,  I  should  qualify 
this  statement  by  limiting  it  to  things  purchasable.  The 
shops  were  full  of  Kirghis  buyers  and  Klrghis  horses,  and 
in  many  respects  they  were  interesting  enough  to  satisfy  the 
most  exacting  foreign  traveler.  There  is  a  certain  amount 
of  adventurous  interest  in  the  mere  act  of  forcing  one's 
way  into  a  shop  when  the  shop  is  full  of  Klrghis  and  the 
door  is  completely  blocked  up  with  the  bodies  of  Kirghis 
saddle-horses.  Hitching-posts  at  the  Altai  Station  are 
entirely  unknown,  and  in  the  absence  of  such  conveniences 
Kirghis  horsemen  are  accustomed  to  lead  their  horses  di- 
rectly into  the  shops  that  they  have  occasion  to  visit  and 
hold  them  there  by  the  bridles  while  they  themselves  stand 
at  the  counter  and  examine  goods.  As  a  result  of  this  in- 
teresting custom  you  will  often  see  four  or  five  Kirghis 
horses  whose  heads  and  fore-legs  are  across  the  threshold 
of  a  shop  door,  while  their  hind-quarters  are  massed  in  a 
sort  of  reversed  equine  phalanx  outside.    If  you  have  not 


l;)v^  SIBEKIA 

implicit  I'OiitidiMK'o  in  the  tompevs  of  Kirghis  mountain 
ponit's,  tlioir  bodies  thus  arranged  constitute  a  most  for- 
midable barricade.  By  means  of  soothing  and  conciliatory 
measures  I  generally  succeeded  in  separating  two  horses 
surticicntly  so  that  I  could  squeeze  through  between  them 
into  the  shop,  but  I  rarely  found  there  anything  of  local 
origin  or  nuiuufacture  to  repay  me  for  my  trouble.  Most 
of  the  goods  that  were  shown  to  me  were  from  European 
Russia,  and  were  such  as  I  had  seen  in  scores  of  Siberian 
shops  already.  The  mountain  Kirghis,  however,  who  were 
tlie  chief  consumers  of  these  goods,  were  interesting  enough 
to  more  than  nuike  up  for  the  commonplace  nature  of  the 
goods  themselves.  They  wei'e  generally  wilder-looking  men 
than  the  steppe  Kirghis  whose  acquaintance  we  had  made 
in  the  territory  of  Semipalatinsk,  and  the  wildness  of  their 
appearance  was  heightened,  perhaps,  to  some  extent,  by 
their  dress.  This  consisted  of  an  under  tunic  or  shirt  of 
cotton  cloth  striped  perpendicularly  with  red,  straight 
trousers  of  butternut  homespun  thrust  into  top-boots,  a 
bcshnict  or  quilted  dressing-gown  of  black,  brown,  or  gray 
homespun  girt  about  the  waist  with  a  narrow,  silver-studded 
leather  belt,  and  finally  an  extraordinary  pointed  hood  of 
quilted  cloth  covering  the  whole  head  and  neck,  with  long 
chin-laps  hanging  over  the  shoulders  in  front  and  a  bunch 
of  soft  feathers  dangling  from  the  high,  pointed  crown. 
These  hoods  were  almost  invariably  lined  and  trimmed  with 
fur,  and  were  made  frequently  of  a  peculiar  kind  of  Russian 
cloth,  in  which  the  wavy  markings  of  watered  silk  are 
imitated  in  green,  yellow,  and  purple,  so  as  to  produce  a 
sort  of  chromatic  moire  antique.  It  would  be  hard  to 
imagine  anything  stranger  or  wilder  in  appearance  than  the 
rough-hewn,  beardless,  sun-scorched  face  of  an  old  Kirghis, 
framed  in  one  of  these  high,  pointed  hoods  of  green,  yellow, 
and  p*ir})le,  and  half  concealed  by  the  chin-laps  and  the 
shaggy  fringe  of  bear-skin  or  wolf-skin  that  hangs  like  a 
neglected  bang  over  the  dark,  fierce  eyes. 


BRIDLE   PATHS    OF   THE   ALTAI  199 

I  spent  an  hour  or  more  that  morniug  in  the  little  shops 
of  the  Altai  Station,  making  a  pretense  of  looking  at  goods 
in  order  that  I  might  have  an  opportunity  to  study  the 
Kirghis.  I  was  greatly  interested  in  their  forms  of  saluta- 
tion, and  particularly  in  their  method  of  shaking  or  pressing- 
hands,  which  I  had  never  before  seen.  When  two  Kirghis 
acquaintances  meet,  after  a  period  of  separation,  each  of 
them  holds  out  both  his  hands  with  thumbs  uppermost,  very 
much  as  he  would  hold  out  his  arms  to  take  a  baby.  One 
of  them  puts  the  palm  of  his  right  hand  against  the  back  of 
the  other's  left,  and  the  back  of  his  left  hand  against  the 
palm  of  the  other's  right,  and  then  both  bring  their  hands 
together  as  if  they  were  about  to  clap  them.  The  result  is 
a  sandwiching  of  the  two  pairs  of  hands  in  such  a  manner 
that  each  person  has  between  his  two  palms  one  hand  of 
the  other.  The  hands  are  pressed  closely  together  in  this 
way  without  motion  while  the  acquaintances  exchange 
salutations  and  inquiries  with  regard  to  health.  This 
seemed  to  me  to  be  a  much  more  graceful  and  appropriate 
form  of  hand-greeting  than  the  vise-like  grip  and  the 
meaningless  shake  of  the  civilized  world.  The  mere  pump- 
ing of  interlocked  hands  has  neither  grace  nor  significance, 
while  the  gentle  pressure  of  a  friend's  hand  between  both 
one's  own  is  a  perfectly  natural  and  suitable  expression  of 
affectionate  regard.  The  only  objection  that  I  can  see  to  it 
is  that,  for  indiscriminate  use,  it  partakes  too  much  of  the 
nature  of  a  caress.  In  civilized  society,  therefore,  it  should 
be  reserved  for  cases  in  which  a  hand-shake  would  be  too 
formal  and  an  embrace  too  familiar.  Thus  restricted,  I  offer 
it  to  the  world  as  the  first  contribution  of  the  Altai  Kirghis 
to  the  polite  ceremonies  of  social  life. 

Upon  returning  from  the  shops  to  the  place  where  I  had 
left  Mr.  Frost,  I  found  him  still  at  work  upon  his  sketch, 
which  had  begun  to  assume  the  appearance  of  the  illustra- 
tion on  page  19-4.  Just  before  noon,  at  the  suggestion  of  the 
Cossack  ataman  who  came  to  our  house  to  return  our  pass- 


•_)()()  SIBEKIA 

polls,  I  nuulo  a  call  of  ceremony  upon  Captain  Maiefski,  the 
in/cUdni  tuH'hUii'tk  or  ehief  administrative  officer  of  the 
southern  Altai  district.  I  found  him  to  be  a  pleasant,  culti- 
vated othcei-  about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  who  had  just 
returned  from  a  trip  on  horseback  through  the  high  Altai, 
and  \vlu>  could  give  me  the  fullest  and  most  accurate  infor- 
mation with  regard  to  scenery  and  routes.  He  welcomed 
nu'  very  cordially,  introduced  me  to  his  wife,— a  most  agree- 
able and  intelligent  young  Avoman,— and  invited  me  to  come 
with  Mr.  Frost  that  day  to  dinner.  I  accepted  the  invitation, 
\)o{\\  for  myself  and  for  my  comrade,  and  we  thus  began  an 
aciiuaintance  that  proved  to  be  a  very  delightful  and  advan- 
tageous one  for  us,  and  that  brought  some  novelty  and 
variety,  I  hope,  into  the  rather  lonely  and  eventless  lives  of 
Ca]>tain  and  Mrs.  Maiefski. 

\Ve  remained  at  the  Altai  Station  three  or  four  days, 
making  excursions  into  the  neighboring  mountains  with 
Captain  Maiefski  and  his  wife,  visiting  and  photographing 
the  Kirghis  who  were  encamped  near  the  village,  and  col- 
lecting information  with  regard  to  the  region  lying  farther 
to  the  northward  and  eastward  which  we  hoped  to  explore. 
The  uKnintains  of  the  Altai  occupy  in  southern  Siberia  an 
area  more  than  three  times  as  great  as  that  of  Switzerland. 
Only  a  small  part  of  this  vast  wilderness  of  mountains  has 
been  actually  settled  by  the  Russians,  and  outside  of  the 
fertile  valleys  of  such  rivers  as  the  Katun  and  the  Biikh- 
tarma  it  is  very  imperfectly  known,  even  to  the  hardy  and 
daring  Cossack  pioneers.  For  this  ignorance,  however, 
there  are  several  good  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  the 
southern  part  of  the  Russian  Altai,  including  the  valley 
of  the  Bukhtarma  and  the  high  peaks  of  the  Katiinski  and 
Chili  ski  Alps,  belonged,  until  very  recently,  to  the  empire 
of  China.  The  Russians  first  appeared  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  Bukhtarma  valley  in  1869,  and  the  Altai  Station  was 
not  founded  until  two  years  later.  It  was  then  nothing 
more  than  a  Cossack  observing-jjicket  on  the  new  Chinese 


BRIDLE   PATHS   OF   THE   ALTAI  201 

frontier.  In  the  second  place,  exploration  of  these  wild 
mountain  fastnesses  has  always  been  attended  with  gTeat 
difficulty.  In  the  high  alpine  valleys,  and  on  the  elevated 
plateaus  of  the  main  range,  snow  falls  to  a  great  depth  in 
winter;  the  short  summer  begins  late;  the  streams  that 
rise  among  the  colossal  peaks  of  the  Great  Altai  are  gener- 
ally torrents  and  flow  through  deep,  rugged,  almost  impas- 
sable gorges  until  they  descend  to  the  level  of  the  foot-hills ; 
and  the  mountain  walls  that  separate  neighboring  valleys 
are  so  high,  rocky,  and  precipitous,  that  crossing  them  on 
horseback  is  difficult  and  dangerous,  even  when  they  are 
free  from  snow.  There  is  only  one  practicable  commercial 
route  over  the  main  range  of  the  Altai  between  the  Chiiiski 
Alps  and  the  right  bank  of  the  Irtish, — a  distance  of  more 
than  two  hundred  miles, —  and  this  solitary  route  is  a  mere 
bridle-path,  which  crosses  the  desolate  plateau  of  Ukeik 
and  the  precipitous  water-shed  of  Ulan-daba  at  a  height 
of  9260  feet.  Of  course  in  such  a  wilderness  as  this  there 
was  an  ample  field  for  enterprising  explorers,  but  as  our 
time  was  limited  we  decided,  after  a  number  of  consul- 
tations with  Captain  Maiefski,  to  content  ourselves  with 
an  excursion  to  the  peaks  and  glaciers  of  the  Katiinski 
Alps. 

The  day  of  our  departure  happened  to  be  Captain  Maief- 
ski's  namesday;  and  in  order  to  celebrate  it  and  at  the 
same  time  to  give  us  a  pleasant  "  send-off,"  he  invited  a 
party  of  friends  to  go  with  us  as  far  as  the  rapids  of  the 
Bukhtarma  river,  about  fifteen  versts  from  the  Station,  and 
there  have  a  picnic.  When  we  started,  therefore,  we  were 
accompanied  by  Captain  Maiefski  and  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ter, the  Cossack  atamdn  and  his  wife,  a  political  exile  named 
Zavalishin  and  his  wife,  and  three  or  four  other  officers  and 
ladies.  The  party  was  escorted  by  ten  or  fifteen  mounted 
Klrghis  in  bright-colored  heshmets  girt  about  the  waist  with 
silver-studded  belts;  and  the  cavalcade  of  uniformed  offi- 
cers, gaily  dressed  ladies,  and  hooded  Kirghis  presented  a 


•2()-2  SIBERIA 

mot^t  novel  and  pict mosque  appearance,  as  it  cantered  away 
across  the  grassy  plateau. 

The  ilay  was  warm  and  sunshiny,  but  clouds  were  drift- 
inu"  occasionally  across  the  snow-clad  peaks  south  of  the 
\ilhmv,  diversifying  their  sides  with  moving  areas  of  pur- 
ple shadow  and  increasing  the  impression  of  great  height 
that  they  made  upon  one.  The  road,  which  was  dry,  hard, 
and  in  good  condition,  crossed  the  little  valley  just  above 
the  village  and  then  ran  along  the  slopes  of  the  southern 
mountains  through  an  open,  park-like  forest  of  larch,  pop- 
lar, and  silver  birch.  Flowers  were  blossoming  everywhere 
in  almost  incredible  luxuriance  and  profusion.  The  sunny 
stretches  of  grass  in  the  forest  openings  were  embroidered 
with  dark-blue  gentians,  wild  pansies,  forget-me-nots,  and 
delicate  fringed  pinks ;  in  moister,  cooler  places  stood  splen- 
did ultramarine  spikes,  eight  feet  high,  of  aconite,  and  here 
and  there,  on  the  brink  of  the  valley,  were  white  drifts  of 
spirea  covering  areas  of  from  twenty  to  fifty  square  feet 
with  dense  masses  of  snowy  bloom. 

All  along  the  road,  w^here  it  ran  through  the  open  forest, 
we  noticed  ant-hills,  four  or  five  feet  in  height,  swarming 
with  large  black  ants.  As  we  passed  one  of  them  Mrs. 
Maiefski  handed  her  white  cambric  handkerchief  to  a 
Kirghis  horseman,  and  told  him  to  throw  it  upon  the  hill 
and  then  give  it  to  me.  The  handkerchief  no  sooner  touched 
the  hill  than  it  was  black  with  startled  ants.  After  allow- 
ing them  to  run  over  it  for  three  or  four  seconds  the  Kirghis, 
who  had  evidently  seen  this  experiment  tried  before,  caught 
it  up  dexterously  by  one  corner,  gave  it  a  quick,  sharp  flirt 
to  free  it  from  the  insects,  and  then  handed  it  to  me. 

"  Smell  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Maiefski.  I  obeyed,  and  was  sur- 
prised to  discover  that,  although  perfectly  dry  to  the  touch, 
it  affected  the  nostrils  precisely  as  if  it  had  been  saturated 
with  aromatic  vinegar.  It  had  acquired  this  odor  in  the  few 
seconds  that  it  had  lain  upon  the  ant-hill.  I  then  tried  the 
same  experiment  with  my  own  handkerchief.     After  the 


BKIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI 


203 


ants  had  run  over  it  for  three  minutes  it  was  so  impregnated 
with  the  strong,  pungent  vapor  of  formic  acid  that  I  could 
not  bring  it  anywhere  near  my  face  without  stranghng. 
The  odor,  which  is  that  of  aromatic  vinegar,  is  rather  plea- 


sant if  not  too  strong,  but  in  excess  it  affects  the  nostrils 
very  much  in  the  same  way  that  ammonia  affects  them. 

About  twelve  versts  from  the  Altai  Station  we  began  to 
catch  glimpses,  now  and  then,  of  the  pale-gi'een  glacier 
water  of  the  Bukhtarma,  flowing  through  a  deep  wooded 


204  SIBEKIA 

valley  on  our  left  and  siio-gosting,  in  color  and  topographieal 
onvironnK'ut,  the  water  of  the  Niagara  below  the  falls. 
Just  beyond  the  sixteen-f^>-5^  post  we  abandoned  the  road, 
;iu(l  turning  sharply  to  the  left  descended  to  the  bank  of  the 
river.  Oajttain  Maiefski  had  sent  forward  to  the  picnic 
ground  early  that  morning  two  Kirghis  tents,  a  quantity  of 
rugs  and  pillows,  and  his  whole  house-keeping  outfit ;  and 
when  we  arrived  a  most  luxurious  camp  was  in  complete 
readiness.  The  two  tents — one  of  them  white  trimmed  with 
scarlet  and  the  other  a  deep  Pompeiian  red — had  been 
pitched  in  a  beautiful  grassy  nook  beside  the  river;  soft 
Bokharan  rugs  from  a  Kirghis  Jxihiflri  had  been  lavishly 
used  to  line  and  carpet  them ;  a  polished  sdmovdr  was 
steaming  and  singing  on  the  grass  in  the  shade  of  a  droop- 
ing birch,  and  columns  of  smoke  and  sparks  were  rising  from 
two  or  three  cheerful  camp-fires.  In  less  than  ten  minutes 
after  our  arrival  the  whole  party  was  scattered  up  and  down 
the  bank  of  the  river,  every  one  engaged  in  the  occupation 
that  was  to  him  most  congenial.  Captain  Maiefski  and 
Mr.  Frost,  armed  with  long-handled  nets,  were  rushing 
hither  and  thither  in  pursuit  of  brilliantly  colored  but 
erratic  butterflies  ;  the  Cossack  ataman  was  casting  a  hook 
and  line  into  the  river  and  landing  every  now  and  then  a 
silvery  fish  ;  Mrs.  Maiefski  was  superintending  the  prepara- 
tions for  dinner,  while  Mr.  Zavalishin  and  I,  having  neither 
duty  nor  speciality,  strolled  aimlessly  about  the  neighbor- 
hood, picking  flowers,  watching  the  Kirghis,  and  enjoying 
the  picturesque  effect  of  the  dark-red  tent  against  the 
backgi'ound  of  green  trees,  the  blue  curling  smoke  of  the 
camp-fires  and  the  pale  malachite  coloring  of  the  glacier- 
tinted  stream. 

After  an  excellently  cooked  and  well-served  dinner  of 
soup,  freshly  caught  fish,  roast  lamb,  boiled  mutton,  cold 
chicken,  pilau  of  rice  with  raisins,  strawberries  and  confec- 
tionery, we  spent  a  long  and  delightful  afternoon  in  bot- 
anizing, fishing,  rifle-shooting,  catching  butterflies,  telling 


BRIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI 


205 


riddles  and  singiiig  songs.  It  was,  I  think,  the  most  pleasant 
and  successful  picnic  that  I  ever  had  the  good  fortune  to 
enjoy,  and  when,  late  in  the  afternoon,  Mr.  Frost  and  I  bade 
the  party  good-by,  I  am  sure  we  both  secretly  wished  that 


"W 


we  could  stay  there  in  camp  for  a  week  instead  of  going  to 
the  Katunski  Alps. 

We  spent  that  night  at  the  little  Cossack  picket  of  Jingis- 
tai,  which  consisted  of  two  newly  built  log  houses  situated 
in  the  shallow,  flower-carpeted  valley  of  the  Bukhtarma, 


l.>tl(;  SIBERIA 

altout  tliirty  rersfs  from  the  Altai  Station.  The  Cossack 
family  that  coiistitntod  tlie  "picket"  occupied  only  one  of 
the  houses,  and  we  therefore  bivouacked  in  the  other.  Oar 
sleeping  apartment  contained  no  furniture  of  any  kind,  its 
windows  were  mere  rectangular  openings  in  the  wall  with- 
out sashes  or  glass,  and  we  were  forced  to  make  our  beds 
on  tlu^  rough-hewn  planks  of  the  floor;  but  the  room  was 
tillrd  with  the  faint,  clean  fragrance  of  pine  shavings  and 
spruce  boards,  the  air  that  came  in  through  the  sashless 
windows  was  fresh  from  the  flowery  slopes  of  the  hills,  and 
we  slept  as  soundly  and  awoke  as  much  refreshed  as  if  we 
had  lain  on  couches  of  rose  petals  in  the  palace  of  the  Tsar. 

Tuesday,  July  28th,  we  continued  our  ride  up  the  valley 
of  the  Bukhtarma  in  the  general  dii-ection  of  the  Katiinski 
Alps.  The  snowy  range  of  the  Great  Altai  could  no  longer 
be  seen  from  the  trail,  and  we  did  not  catch  a  single  glimpse 
that  day  of  the  group  of  colossal  peaks  at  the  source  of  the 
Katun ;  but  the  scenery  through  which  we  rode  was,  never- 
theless, beautiful  and  picturesque.  The  high  rolling  foot- 
hills which  formed  the  sides  of  the  valley,  and  which  con- 
cealed the  peaks  of  the  main  range,  were  endlessly  varied 
in  outline  and  coloring ;  the  valley  itself  was  full  of  park- 
like openings  and  sunny  glades  where  the  soft  green  carpet 
of  turf  was  sprinkled  with  violets,  pansies,  and  forget-me- 
nots  ;  and  every  verst  or  two  a  clear  rushing  stream  came 
tumbling  down  across  the  trail  from  a  melting  snow-field 
in  some  deep  shaded  glen  high  up  among  the  hills. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  a  small  Cossack  village 
called  Arul,  about  thirty  versts  from  Jingistai,  and  went 
to  the  house  of  the  ataman  to  present  our  order  for  fresh 
horses.  The  atammi's  son,  a  good-looking  young  fellow  of 
twenty-two  or  three,  soon  made  his  appearance  in  full  uni- 
form, and  said  that  his  father,  for  whom  we  had  inquired, 
was  making  hay  on  the  mountain-side  about  twelve  versts 
away,  but  that  he  would  send  for  him  if  it  was  "  shipka 
nuzhni "  [awful  necessary].     We  replied  that  we  must  have 


BRIDLE   PATHS   OF   THE   ALTAI 


207 


horses  to  continue  our  journey,  and  that  if  we  could  not 
get  them  without  an  order  from  the  ataman.,  the  ataman 
must  be  summoned.  The  young  man,  thereupon,  saddled 
a  horse  and  galloped  away  down  the  valley.     While  wait- 


ing for  his  return  we  refreshed  ourselves  with  bread  and 
tea,  and  Mr,  Frost  made  the  sketch  of  the  village  that  is 
reproduced  on  this  page.  The  ataman  arrived  in  about  an 
hour  and  a  half.  He  proved  to  be  an  officer  of  intelligence 
and  energy,  and  procured  the  necessary  horses  and  a  guide 
for  us  at  once.     The  distance  from  Arul  to  the  Cossack 


20S  SIBERIA 

villaj^c  of  Berel,  where  we  expected  to  leave  the  valley  of 
tlio  Hi'ikhtarinA,  was  only  about  twenty  rersts^  and  the  road 
lay,  as  before,  along  the  river.  The  foothills  that  bounded 
it  were  higher  and  steeper  than  in  the  part  of  the  valley 
through  whieh  we  had  passed,  and  here  and  there,  along 
their  bases,  were  enormous  masses  of  loose  rocks  and  boul- 
ders which  looked  as  if  they  might  have  been  brought  down 
into  the  valley  by  tremendous  avalanches  or  landslides. 
Ahout  half-past  four  o'clock  we  crossed,  on  rude  corduroy 
bridges,  two  or  three  turbid,  milky  arms  of  the  Bukhtarma 
River,  and  rode  into  the  little  hamlet  of  Berel — the  most 
remote  Russian  settlement  in  that  part  of  the  Altai  and  the 
settlement  where  we  expected  to  make  our  final  arrange- 
ments for  the  long  and  ditficult  ride  across  the  mountains 
to  the  Katunski  Alps. 

The  Cossack  atamdn  at  the  Altai  Station  had  given  us  a 
letter  of  introduction  to  one  of  his  acquaintances  in  Berel— 
a  peasant  farmer  named  Bielaiisof — and  we  therefore  went 
directly  to  the  latter's  house.  He  proved  to  be  an  intelli- 
gent man,  fifty-five  or  sixty  years  of  age,  and  an  excellent 
type  of  the  hardy  Siberian  pioneers  who  seek  to  escape 
from  the  burdensome  restraints  of  government  by  migra- 
tion to  remote  and  unexplored  regions.  He  was  a  noncon- 
formist in  religion,  and  had  come  to  this  wild  corner  of  the 
Altai  partly  to  enjoy  freedom  of  religious  worship  and 
partly  to  find,  if  possible,  the  mythical  Bielovodye  or  unin- 
habited land  of  peace  and  plenty  which  certain  Russian 
dissenters  believe  to  exist  somewhere  on  the  Mongolian 
frontier  in  the  far  East.  He  had  not  found  the  Siberian 
Eden  which  was  the  main  object  of  his  quest,  but  he  had 
found  the  valley  of  the  Bukhtarma,  and,  tempted  by  its 
beauty  and  fertility,  he  had  l)uilt  a  log  house  for  himself 
at  the  intersection  of  the  Bukhtarma  River  and  the  Berel 
and  in  course  of  time  had  become  prosperous  and  contented 
as  a  peasant  farmer  and  a  breeder  of  the  mardl  or  great  Al- 
tai deer  [Cervus  elephas].     The  horns  of  the  mardJ^  when 


BRIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI  209 

at  that  stage  of  development  known  as  "  in  the  velvet,"  are 
believed  by  the  Chinese  to  have  peculiar  medicinal  proper- 
ties, and  are  very  highly  prized.     Chinese  traders  go  in 
search  of  them  to  the  remotest  parts  of  the  Altai  and  some- 
times offer  for  them  as  much  as  four  dollars  a  pound,  or  a 
hundred  dollars  for  a  single  pair  of  large  antlers.     Bielali- 
sof  had  succeeded  in  capturing  fifteen  or  twenty  of  these 
deer,  and  had  shut  them  up  in  an  extensive  park,  made  by 
putting  a  nine-foot  fence  around  a  whole  mountain  so  as* 
to  inclose  a  range  almost  as  extensive  as  the  animals  would 
have  had  in  a  state  of  freedom.     From  the  sale  of  the 
horns  of  the  stags  he  derived  every  year  an  income  of  six 
or  eight  hundred  dollars,  which,  with  the  proceeds  of  his 
farm,  enabled  him  to  live  in  more  than  ordinary  comfort. 
We  spent  in  Berel  only  one  night.     Before  we  went  to 
bed  Tuesday  evening  we  had  engaged  one  of  Bielalisof's 
nephews  to  accompany  us  in  the  capacity  of  guide,  had 
hired  a  second  man  to  assist  him  in  making  camp,  had 
procured  the  necessary  number  of  horses,  and  were  virtually 
ready  to  start.    Wednesday  morning  at  nine  o'clock  the 
whole  population  of  Berel  —  about  fifty  souls  —  assembled 
in  front  of  Bielaiisof's  house  to  see  the  cavalcade  get  under 
way.     Mikhaiel,  the  guide,  a  stout,  chubby-faced  young 
fellow,  with  tangled  masses  of  yellow  hair  faUing  over  his 
shoulders,  had  arrayed  himself  in  a  traveling  suit  of  extra- 
ordinary chromatic  brilliancy,  and  was  the  admired  of  all 
beholders.     His  cotton  shirt,  which  he  wore  outside  his 
breeches  like  a  tunic,  was  of  a  gory  crimson,  whose  sug- 
gestions of  bloodshed  were  relieved  to  some  extent  by  a 
pattern  of  big  yellow  harps;  his  loose  buckskin  trousers 
were  embroidered  with  bouquets  of  scarlet  roses  and  huge 
orange  sunflowers,  and  the  brim  of  his  antiquated  chimney- 
pot hat  had  been  turned  up  in  piratical  fashion  on  one  side 
and  fastened  to  the  crown  with  round  buttons  of  colored 
glass.     His   assistant,   Nikolai,  had   on   yellow   buckskin 
trousers  embroidered  with  Patagonian  cactuses  and  a  cot- 
14 


210 


SIBERIA 


ton  shirt  ot  dcvp  iiulig'o  blue.     Our  provisions,  consisting 
of  toa.  suirar,  broad,  two  le^s  of  mutton,  and  a  little  honey, 


ASCICNT    OF    THE    MOLNTAIN    FKU.M    BEREL. 


were  packed  in  capacious,  antediluvian  saddle-bags;   our 
brushes,  soajj,  towels,  sponges,  and  spare  underclothing 


BRIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI  211 

were  wrapped  up  in  our  blankets  and  securely  lashed  be- 
hind our  saddles ;  and  we  sat  on  our  pillows.  The  horses 
that  had  been  provided  for  our  use  did  not  look  very  prom- 
ising at  first  sight,  but  I  knew  that  the  good  qualities  of  a 
Kirghis  horse  are  not  to  be  discovered  by  simple  inspection, 
and  I  accepted  Mikhaiel's  assurance  that  they  were  hardy, 
sure-footed,  and  accustomed  to  mountain  paths.  About 
half-past  nine  o'clock  everything  was  said  to  be  ready,  and 
cHmbing  into  our  high,  short-stirruped  saddles  we  rode 
solemnly  in  single  file  out  of  the  settlement.  There  was 
a  faint  cheer  from  the  more  youthful  half  of  the  assembled 
crowd  as  we  got  under  way,  but  Frost  and  I  did  not  claim 
for  ourselves,  or  for  our  horsemanship,  any  of  the  popular 
enthusiasm  thus  manifested.  We  knew  very  well  that  it 
was  inspired  by  the  golden  harps  on  the  crimson  "tunic  of 
the  yellow-haired  Mikhaiel,  and  the  Patagonian  cactuses 
that  blossomed  all  over  the  orange  legs  of  the  indigo-shir  ted 
Nikolai. 

After  having  forded  one  of  the  milky  channels  of  the 
Berel  River  we  climbed  slowly  for  two  hours  in  short  zigzags 
up  a  steep  Kirghis  trail  that  led  to  the  summit  of  an  im- 
mense mound-shaped  foothill  behind  the  village.  As  we 
ascended,  the  whole  magnificent  amphitheater  of  snow-clad 
mountains  at  the  head  of  the  Bukhtarma  valley  opened  on 
our  right,  and  a  long  line  of  sharp  white  peaks  that  we  had 
not  before  seen  appeared  on  the  southern  side  of  the  Bukh- 
tarma along  the  boundary  line  of  Mongolia.  Everywhere 
to  the  northward  and  eastward  snowy  mountains  were 
piled  on  snowy  mountains  until  there  seemed  to  be  no  pos- 
sibility of  crossing  or  piercing  the  tremendous  alpine  barrier. 
On  the  summit  of  the  mound-shaped  foothill,  two  or  three 
thousand  feet  above  Berel,  we  found  half  a  dozen  Kirghis 
Jiihitkas,  pitched  here  and  there  among  immense  glacial 
boulders  and  surrounded  by  flocks  of  Kirghis  sheep  and 
goats.  As  the  summer  advances  and  the  vegetation  begins 
to  dry  up  in  the  lower  Altai  valleys,  the  Kirghis  are  accus- 


212 


SIBERIA 


tonioil  to  drive  their  floeks  and  herds  to  the  crests  of  the 
foothills  wliere  the  p-ass  is  still  fresh  and  green.  In  the 
latter  part  oi'  Jnl\-,  tluMvfore,  they  may  be  found  encamped 


high  up  in  the  mountains,  and  often  in  the  most  beautiful, 
picturesque,  and  commanding  situations.  From  the  aiil  of 
the  Berel  Kirghis  we  could  look  out  over  a  perfect  ocean  of 
foothills  and  could  trace  the  snowy  range  of  the  Great  Altai 
for  a  distance  of  a  hundred  miles. 


BEIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI  213 

After  stopping  for  a  few  moments  at  the  Kirghis  encamp- 
ment and  making  some  inquiries  with  regard  to  the  con- 
dition of  the  trail  from  there  to  the  Rakmanofski  hot 
springs,  we  tightened  our  saddle-girths  and  plunged  into 
the  wilderness  of  steep  foothills  and  wild  ravines  that  lies 
between  the  headwaters  of  the  Biikhtarma  and  the  head- 
waters of  the  Katun.  The  northern  slope  of  the  mountain 
upon  which  the  Kirghis  encampment  stood  was  much  barer, 
bleaker,  and  more  rocky  than  the  slope  that  we  had  as- 
cended. The  yellow  flowers  that  had  given  a  sunny  and 
cheerful  glow  to  the  latter  suddenly  disappeared,  and  their 
places  were  taken  by  a  star-like  purple  blossom  growing  in 
long,  slender  spikes,  and  a  very  striking  and  showy  species 
of  dark-blue  campanula.  At  the  same  time  a  new  kind  of 
shrub  with  silvery-gray  leaves  made  its  appearance,  and 
grew  so  abundantly  among  the  rocks  as  to  change  the 
whole  tone  of  the  landscape.  I  cannot  remember  to  have 
seen  in  any  other  i^art  of  the  world  so  sharp  and  sudden  a 
transition  from  one  aspect  of  nature  to  another  under  the 
very  same  atmospheric  conditions.  The  northern  exposure, 
the  hoary,  lichen-stained  rocks,  the  dark-purple  flowers, 
and  the  cool,  silvery-gray  foliage  of  the  sage-like  shrubs 
gave  me  the  impression  of  a  landscape  seen  by  moonlight. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  Kirghis  encampment  we  crossed 
for  the  first  time  in  Siberia  the  terminal  moraine  of  an  ex- 
tinct glacier.  It  was  an  immense  mass  of  loose  rocks  and 
boulders  of  all  shapes  and  sizes  thrown  together  in  the 
wildest  confusion,  and  extending  far  up  and  down  one  of 
the  lateral  ravines.  At  the  point  where  we  crossed  it,  it 
seemed  to  me  to  be  at  least  an  eighth  of  a  mile  wide,  and  it 
presented  obstacles  that  brought  out  all  the  best  qualities 
of  our  Kirghis  horses.  They  made  their  way  over  the 
loose  slabs  and  boulders  with  the  judgment  and  agility  of 
mountain  sheep,  rarely  slipping,  and,  when  they  did  slip, 
recovering  their  foothold  without  the  least  nervousness  or 
excitement. 


214  SIBERIA 

Latt>  ill  \]w  afternoon,  after  a  very  difficult  and  fatiguing 
ji)urnoy  of  twoiity-five  or  thirty  rersfs,  we  rode  two  or  three 
thiMisaiid  feet  down  a  slii)]»ery,  l)reak-neck  descent  into  the 


deep  valley  of  the  Rakmanofski  hot  springs,  where,  shut  in 
by  high  mountains  and  framed  in  greenery  and  flowers,  we 
found  a  beautiful  alpine  lake.     The  medicinal  properties  of 


BRIDLE   PATHS   OF   THE   ALTAI  215 

the  water  that  flows  from  the  Rakmauofski  springs  attract 
to  this  beautiful  secluded  valley  every  summer  many 
Russians  and  Klrghis  from  the  neighboring  villages  and 
encampments,  and  there  have  been  erected  for  their  accom- 
modation two  comfortable  log  buildings,  and  a  small  spring- 
house  with  three  bathing-tanks.  In  the  larger  of  the 
buildings,  which  had  a  well-built  Russian  oven,  w^e  stopped 
for  the  night.  The  ceiling  and  walls  of  the  room  that  we 
occupied  bore  many  names  and  inscriptions  in  French, 
Russian,  and  Tatar,  among  which  I  noticed  "N.  Yadrint- 
soff,  16  Aoute,  1880";^  "  ^Qad.  Banikof,  VI  22,  1885";  and 
"  M.  T.  Zheleiznikof,  Semipalatinsk,  5  June,  1885."  On  the 
partition  wall  over  the  rude  plank  bench  where  Mr.  Frost 
made  his  bed,  some  sufferer  who,  apparently,  had  come  with 
weak  faith  to  the  springs  in  the  hope  of  being  cured  had 
inscribed  carefully  in  large,  well-formed  capital  letters  the 
words,  "  Lord,  I  beheve,  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

The  hot  springs  oozed  out  from  under  two  or  three  piles 
of  what  seemed  to  be  small  glacial  boulders,  over  which 
devout  Russians  had  placed  wooden  crosses,  and  devout 
Kirghis  had  hung  colored  fragments  from  their  shirts  and 
trousers.  The  water  from  these  springs  was  collected  a 
short  distance  below  in  small  vats  or  tanks  in  the  spring- 
house,  so  that  sufferers  from  rheumatism  or  cutaneous  disease 
might  be  able  to  soak  themselves  in  it  under  shelter.  It 
was  remarkably  clear  and  bright  in  appearance,  but  had  a 
peculiar  soapy,  slippery  feeling,  that  suggested  the  presence 
of  soda  or  borax.  According  to  the  Russian  chemist  Haller, 
who  has  made  an  analysis  of  it,  it  very  closely  resembles 
the  water  of  the  famous  springs  at  Carlsbad.  Its  tempera- 
ture in  the  tanks  was  104°  Fahrenheit. 

When  we  awoke  Thursday  morning  rain  was  falling 
heavily,  and  horseback  travel  in  such  a  country  was  evi- 
dently out  of  the  question.     The  storm  continued,  with  an 

1  Mr.  Yddrintsoff  is  the  editor  of  the  Eastern  Review  in  Irkutsk  and  a  well- 
known  author,  explorer,  and  anthropologist. 


216 


SIBERIA 


occasional  brief  intermission,  for  two  days;  but  on  the 
morning  i>f  the  tliird  the  weather  finally  cleared  up  and, 
^vithout'" waiting  for  the  mountain  slopes  to  become  dry,  we 
saddled  onr  liorses  and  went  on. 


The  last  sixty  versts  of  our  journey  were  made  with  great 
difficulty  and  much  peril,  our  route  lying  across  tremend- 
ous mountain  ridges  and  deep  valleys  with  almost  precipi- 
tous sides,  into  which  we  descended  by  following  the  course 


BEIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI  217 

of  foaming  moiiutaiu  torrents,  or  clambering  down  the 
moraines  of  extinct  glaciers,  over  great  heaj)ed-up  masses 
of  loose,  broken  rocks,  through  swamps,  tangled  jungles  of 
laurel  bushes  and  fallen  trees,  and  down  slopes  so  steep 
that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  throw  one's  body  far  enough 
back  to  keep  one's  balance  in  the  saddle.  Half  the  time 
our  horses  were  sliding  on  all  four  feet,  and  dislodging 
stones  which  rolled  or  bounded  for  half  a  mile  downward, 
until  they  were  dashed  to  pieces  over  tremendous  preci- 
pices. I  was  not  wholly  inexperienced  in  mountain  travel, 
having  ridden  on  horseback  the  whole  length  of  the  moun- 
tainous peninsula  of  Kamchatka,  and  crossed  three  times  the 
great  range  of  the  Caucasus,  once  at  a  height  of  twelve 
thousand  feet ;  but  I  must  confess  that  during  our  descents 
into  the  valleys  of  the  Rakmanofski,  the  Black  Berel,  the 
White  Berel,  and  the  Katun,  my  heart  was  in  my  mouth  for 
hours  at  a  time.  On  any  other  horses  than  those  of  the  Kir- 
ghis  such  descents  would  have  been  utterly  impossible.  My 
horse  fell  with  me  once,  but  I  was  not  hurt.  The  region 
through  which  we  passed  is  a  primeval  wilderness,  traversed 
only  by  the  Biko-Jcdmenoi  Kirghis,  or  "  Kirghis  of  the  Wild 
Rocks,"  and  abounding  in  game.  We  saw  mardls,  wolves, 
wild  sheep,  and  many  fresh  trails  made  by  bears  in  the 
long  grass  of  the  valley  bottoms ;  we  chased  wild  goats,  and 
might  have  shot  hundreds  of  partridges,  grouse,  ducks, 
geese,  eagles,  and  cranes.  The  flora  of  the  lower  mountain 
valleys  was  extremely  rich,  varied,  and  luxuriant,  comprising 
beautiful  wild  pansies  of  half  a  dozen  varieties  and  colors, 
fringed  pinks,  spirea,  two  species  of  gentian,  wild  holly- 
hocks, daisies,  forget-me-nots,  alpine  roses,  trollius,  wild 
poppies,  and  scores  of  other  flowers  that  I  had  never  before 
seen,  many  of  them  very  large,  brilliant,  and  showy. 
Among  plants  and  fruits  that  with  us  are  domesticated,  but 
that  in  the  Altai  grow  wild,  I  noticed  rhubarb,  celery,  red 
currants,  black  currants,  gooseberries,  raspberries,  straw- 
berries, blackberries,  wild  cherries,  crab-apples,  and  wild 


21S 


SIBERIA 


api-ii'ots.  Most  of  the  berries  were  rijie,  or  nearly  ripe,  and 
the  ^vila  currants  were  as  large  and  abundant  as  in  an 
American  irarden.     The  scenery  was  extremely  wild  and 


Mif^S^»  III  "I  "^v  li  ■ 

DESCI.NT    INK)    TIIL    A   \LL1  \     Ol     TIIL     WHUL    BEREL. 

grand,  surpassing,  at  times,  anything  that  I  had  seen  in 
the  Caucasus. 

On  Saturday,  August  1st,  we  reached  the  foot  of  the  last 
gi*eat  ridge,  or  water-shed,  which  separated  us  from  the 
main  chain  of  the  Katiinski  Alps,  and  camped  for  the  night 


BEIDLE   PATHS   OF   THE   ALTAI 


219 


in  a  high  mountain  valley  beside  the  White  Berel,  a  milky 
stream  which  runs  out  from  under  a  great  glacier  a  few 
miles  higher  up.  The  air  was  clear  and  frosty,  but  we  built 
a  big  camp-fire  and  managed  to  get  through  the  night  with- 
out much  discomfort.  Sunday  morning  we  chmbed  about 
two  thousand  feet  to  the  summit  of  the  last  ridge,  and  looked 
over  into  the  wild  valley  of  the  Katiin,  out  of  which  rise 
the  "  Katunski  Pillars,"  the  highest  peaks  of  the  Russian 


i~i  \N  I    vif;\v   of   jiii:   kaLln^ki    ai.i'^. 


Altai.  I  was  prepared,  to  a  certain  extent,  for  grandeur  of 
scenery,  because  I  had  already  caught  glimpses  of  these 
peaks  two  or  three  times,  at  distances  varying  from  twenty- 
five  to  eighty  miles ;  but  the  near  view,  from  the  heights 
above  the  Katun,  so  far  surpassed  all  my  anticipations  that 
I  was  simply  overawed.  I  hardly  know  how  to  describe  it 
without  using  language  that  will  seem  exaggerated.  The 
word  that  oftenest  rises  to  my  lips  when  I  think  of  it  is 
"tremendous."     It  was  not  beautiful,  it  was  not  pictur- 


220  SIBERIA 

esque;   it  was  tronieiulous  and  overwhelming^.    The  nar- 
row valley,  or  gorge,  of  the  Katun,  whieli  lay  almost  un- 
der our  feet,  was  between  2000  and  3000  feet  deep.     On 
the  other  side  of  it  rose,  far  above  our  heads,  the  wild, 
mighty  ehain  of  the  Katunski  Alps,  culminating  just  oppo- 
site us  in  two  tremendous  snowy  peaks  whose  height  I 
estimated  at  15,000  feet.'     They  were  white  from  base  to 
summit,  except  where  the  snow  was  broken  by  great  black 
precipices,  or  pierced  by  sharp,  rocky  spines,  or  aiguilles. 
Down  the  sides  of  these  peaks,  from  vast  fields  of  neve 
above,  fell  seven  immense  glaciers,  the  largest  of  them 
descending  from  the  saddle  between  the  twin  summits  in 
a  series  of  ice  falls  for  at  least  4000  feet.     The  glacier  on 
the  extreme  right  had  an  almost  perpendicular  ice   fall 
of  1200  or  1500  feet,  and  the  glacier  on  the  extreme  left 
save  birth  to   a  torrent  which  tumbled  about  800  feet, 
with  a  hoarse  roar,  into  the  deep  narrow  gorge.    The  latter 
glacier  was  longitudinally  divided  by  three  moraines,  which 
looked  from  our  point  of  view  like  long,  narrow,  A-shaped 
dumps  of  furnace  slag  or  fine  coal  dust,  but  which  were 
in  reality  composed  of  black  rocks,  from  the  size  of  one's 
head  to  the  size  of  a  freight  car,  and  extended  four  or  five 
miles,  with  a  width  of  300  feet  and  a  height  of  from  50  to 
75  feet  above  the  general  level  of  the  glacier.     The  ex- 
treme summits  of  the  two  highest  peaks  were  more  than 
half  of  the  time  hidden  in  clouds ;  but  this  rather  added  to 
than  detracted  from  the  wild  grandeur  of  the  scene,  by 
giving  mystery  to  the  origin  of  the  enormous  glaciers,  which 
at  such  times  seemed  to  the  imagination  to  be  tumbling 
down  from  unknown  heights  in  the  sky  through  masses  of 
rolling  vapor.    All  the  time  there  came  up  to  us  from  the 
depths  of  the  gorge  the  hoarse  roar  of  the  waterfall,  and 
with  it  blended,  now  and  then,  the  deeper  thunder  of  the 

1  Captain  Mai^fski's  estimate  of  their  nor  measured,  aud  I  do  not  even  know 
height  was  18,000  feet  above  the  sea  the  height  above  the  sea  of  the  valley 
level.     They  have  never  been  climbed    bottom  from  which  they  rise. 


BRIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI 


221 


great  glaciers,  as  masses  of  ice  gave  way  aod  settled  into 
new  jDositions  in  the  ice  falls.  This  thundering  of  the 
glaciers  continued  for  nearly  a  minute  at  a  time,  varying  in 
intensity,  and  resembling  occasionally  the  sound  of  a  distant 


but  heavy  and  rapid  cannonade.  No  movement  of  the  ice 
in  the  falls  was  perceptible  to  the  eye  from  the  point  at 
which  we  stood,  but  the  sullen,  rumbling  thunder  was  evi- 
dence enough  of  the  mighty  force  of  the  agencies  which 
were  at  work  before  us. 


222  SIBEKIA 

After  lookiiii;-  at  the  iiioniitains  for  half  an  hour,  we 
turnod  our  attention  to  the  valley  of  the  Katiin  beneath 
us,  witli  tlie  \ie\v  to  aseertain  whether  it  would  be  possible 
to  got  down  into  it  and  reaeli  the  foot  of  the  main  glacier, 
whieh  gave  birth  to  the  Katun  Kiver.  Mr.  Frost  declared 
tlie  descent  to  be  utterly  impracticable,  and  almost  lost 
patience  with  me  because  I  insisted  upon  the  guides  trying 
it.  "Anybody  can  see,"  he  said,  "that  this  slope  ends  in  a 
big  precipice ;  and  even  if  we  get  our  horses  down  there,  we 
never  can  get  them  up  again.  It  is  foolish  to  think  of  such 
a  thing."  I  had  seen  enough,  however,  of  Kirghis  horses 
to  feel  great  confidence  in  their  climbing  abilities ;  and  al- 
though the  descent  did  look  very  dangerous,  I  was  by  no 
means  satisfied  that  it  was  utterly  impracticable.  While  we 
were  discussing  the  question,  our  guide  was  making  a  bold 
and  practical  attempt  to  solve  it.  We  could  no  longer  see 
him  from  where  we  stood,  but  every  now  and  then  a  stone 
or  small  boulder,  dislodged  by  his  horse's  feet,  would  leap 
suddenly  into  sight  300  or  400  feet  below  us,  and  go  crash- 
ing down  the  mountain  side,  clearing  200  feet  at  every 
bound,  and  finally  dashing  itself  to  pieces  against  the  rocks 
at  the  bottom,  with  a  noise  like  the  distant  rattling  dis- 
charge of  musketry.  Our  guide  was  evidently  making  pro- 
gress. In  a  few  moments  he  came  into  sight  on  a  bold,  rocky 
buttress  about  six  hundred  feet  below  us  and  shouted  cheer- 
fully, "  Come  on  !  This  is  nothing !  You  could  get  down 
here  with  a  telega!''''  Inasmuch  as  one  could  hardly  look 
down  there  without  getting  dizzy,  this  was  rather  a  hyper- 
bolical statement  of  the  possibilities  of  the  case ;  but  it  had 
the  effect  of  silencing  Mr.  Frost,  who  took  his  horse  by  the 
bridle  and  followed  me  down  the  mountain  in  cautious  zig- 
zags, while  I  kept  as  nearly  as  I  could  in  the  track  of  our 
leader.  At  the  buttress  the  guide  tightened  my  forward 
and  after  saddle-girths  until  my  horse  groaned  and  grunted 
an  inarticulate  protest,  and  I  climbed  again  into  the  saddle. 
It  seemed  to  me  safer,  on  the  whole,  to  ride  down  than  to 


BEIDLE  PATHS  OF  THE  ALTAI 


223 


try  to  walk  down  leciding  my  horse,  since  in  the  latter  case 
he  was  constantly  sliding  upon  me,  or  dislodging  loose 
stones  which  threatened  to  knock  my  legs  from  under  me 
and  launch  me  into  space  like  a  projectile  from  a  catapult. 
The  first  hundred  feet  of  the  descent  were  very  bad.    It  was 


THE    DKSCENT    INTO    THE     (ioRGE    OF    THE    I 


almost  impossible  to  keep  in  the  saddle  on  account  of  the 
steepness  of  the  incline,  and  once  I  just  escaped  being 
pitched  over  my  horse's  head  at  the  end  of  one  of  his  short 
slides.  We  finally  reached  a  very  steep  but  grassy  slope,  like 
the  side  of  a  titanic  embankment,  down  which  we  zigzagged, 
with  much   discomfort  but  without   any  danger,  to   the 


•).J4  SIBERIA 

hoUom  of  the  Katun  valley.  As  we  rode  towards  tli(^  great 
peaks,  and  tinally,  leaving  our  horses,  climbed  up  on  the 
prineipal  glacier,  I  saw  how  greatly  we  had  underestimated 
distances,   heights,   and    magnitudes,   from    the    elevated 


position  which  we  had  previously  occupied.  The  Katiin 
Eiver,  which,  from  above,  had  looked  like  a  narrow,  dirty 
white  ribbon  that  a  child  could  step  across,  proved  to  be  a 
toiTent  thirty  or  forty  feet  wide,  with  a  current  almost  deep 
and  strong  enough  to  sweep  away  a  horse  and  rider.  The 
main  glacier,  which  I  had  taken  to  be  about  three  hundred 


BRIDLE   PATHS   OF   THE   ALTAI 


225 


feet  wide,  proved  to  have  a  width  of  more  than  half  a  mile; 
and  its  central  moraine,  which  had  looked  to  me  like  a  strip 
of  black  sand  piled  up  to  the  height  of  six  or  seven  feet  like 
a  long  furnace  dump,  proved  to  be  an  enormous  mass  of 


gigantic  rocks,  three  or  four  miles  long,  and  from  300  to 
400  feet  wide,  piled  up  on  the  glacier  in  places  to  the  height 
of  75  feet.  Mr.  Frost  estimated  the  width  of  this  glacier  at 
two-thirds  of  a  mile,  and  the  extreme  height  of  the  moraine 
at  100  feet. 
15 


•Jl'(;  SIBERIA 

I  took  tlio  photojiTaphic  apparatus,  and  in  the  course  of 
an  hour  and  an  lialf  sueeeeded  in  ('limV)ing  up  the  central 
nioraini'  about  two  miles  towards  the  foot  of  the  great  iee 
fall;  l»ul  hy  that  time  1  was  tired  out  and  dripping  with 
perspiration.  I  passed  many  wide  crevasses  into  which 
were  running  streams  of  water  from  the  surface  of  the 
glacier ;  and  judging  from  the  duration  of  the  sound  made 
by  stones  that  I  dropped  into  some  of  them,  they  must  have 
had  a  depth  of  a  hundred  feet,  perhaps  much  more.  This 
was  only  one  of  eleven  glaciers  that  I  counted  from  the 
sunnnit  of  the  high  ridge  which  divides  the  water-shed  of 
the  Irtish  from  that  of  the  Ob.  Seven  glaciers  descend 
from  the  two  main  peaks  alone. 

We  spent  all  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  sketching, 
taking  photographs,  and  climbing  about  the  glacier  and  the 
valley,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  returned  to  our  camp  in 
the  valley  of  the  White  Berel.  That  night — the  2d  of 
August — was  even  colder  than  the  preceding  one.  Ice 
formed  to  the  thickness  of  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
in  our  tea-kettle,  and  my  blankets  and  pillow,  when  I  got 
up  in  the  morning,  were  covered  with  thick  white  frost. 

Monday  we  made  another  excursion  to  the  summit  of  the 
ridge  that  overlooks  the  valley  of  the  Katun,  and  succeeded 
in  getting  a  good  photograj)h  of  the  tw^o  big  peaks,  against 
a  background  of  cloudless  sky.  Our  little  instrument,  of 
course,  could  not  take  in  a  quarter  of  the  mighty  landscape, 
and  what  it  did  take  in  it  reduced  to  so  small  a  scale  that 
all  of  the  grandeur  and  majesty  of  the  mountains  was  lost ; 
but  it  was  a  satisfaction  to  feel  that  we  could  carry  away 
something  that  would  suggest  and  recall  to  us  in  later  years 
the  suV)limity  of  that  wonderful  alpine  picture. 

Monday  noon  we  broke  camp  and  started  for  the  Rak- 
manofski  hot  springs ;  and  on  the  5th  of  August,  after  an 
absence  of  ten  days,  we  returned  to  the  Altai  Station. 


CHAPTER  X 

TWO   COLONIES   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES 

FEW  pages  in  my  Siberian  note-books  are  more  sugges- 
tive of  pleasant  sensations  and  experiences  tlian  the 
pages  that  record  the  incidents  of  our  life  in  the  mountains 
of  the  Altai.  As  I  now  turn  over  the  flower-stained  leaves 
dated  "Altai  Station,  August  5,  1885,"  every  feature  of  that 
picturesque  Cossack  village  comes  back  to  me  so  vividly 
that,  if  for  a  moment  I  close  my  eyes,  I  seem  to  hear  again 
the  musical  plash  and  tinkle  of  the  clear,  cold  streams  that 
tumble  through  its  streets;  to  see  again  the  magnificent 
amphitheater  of  flower-tinted  slopes  and  snowy  peaks  that 
encircles  it ;  and  to  breathe  once  more  the  fresh,  perfumed 
air  of  the  green  alpine  meadow  upon  which  it  stands.  If 
the  object  of  our  Siberian  journey  had  been  merely  enjoy- 
ment, I  think  we  should  have  remained  at  the  Altai  Station 
all  summer ;  since  neither  in  Siberia  nor  in  any  other  coun- 
try could  we  have  hoj)ed  to  find  a  more  delightful  place  for 
a  summer  vacation.  The  pure  mountain  air  was  as  fra- 
grant and  exhilarating  as  if  it  had  been  compounded  of 
perfume  and  ozone ;  the  beauty  and  luxuriance  of  the  flora 
were  a  never-failing  source  of  pleasure  to  the  eye;^  the 
clear,  cold  mountain  streams  were  full  of  fish ;  elk,  argali, 
wild  goats,  bears,  foxes,  and  wolves  were  to  be  found  by 
an  enterprising  hunter  in  the  wooded  ravines  and  the  high 
mountain  valleys  south  of  the  station;  troops  of  Kirghis 

1  I  brought  back  with  me  from  the  Altdi  an  herbarium  consisting  of  nearly  a 
thousand  species  of  flowering  plants. 

227 


228 


SIBERIA 


horsemen  were  ready  to  escort  us  to  the  Mongolian  boun- 
dary post,  to  the  beautiful  alpine  lake  of  Marka  Kul,  or  to 
tlie  wild,  unexplored  fastnesses  of  the  Chinese  Altai;  and 
Captain  Maiefski,  the  hospitable  commandant  of  the  post; 
tempted  us  to  prolong  our  stay,  by  promising  to  organize 
for  us  all  sorts  of  delightful  excursions  and  expeditions. 
The  season  of  good  weather  and  good    roads,  however, 

was  rapidly  passing ;  and  if  we 
hoped  to  reach  the  mines  of 
Kara  before  winter  should  set 
in,  we  had  not  a  day  to  spare. 
It  was  already  the  first  week 
in  August,  and  a  distance  of 
2500  miles  lay  between  us  and 
the  head- waters  of  the  Amur. 

Our  next  objective  point  was 
the  city  of  Tomsk,  distant  from 
the  Altai  Station  about  750 
miles.  In  order  to  reach  it  we 
should  be  obliged  to  return 
over  a  part  of  the  road  that 
we  had  already  traversed,  and 
to  descend  the  Irtish  as  far  as 
the  station  of  Pianoyarof  skaya. 
At  that  point  the  road  to  Tomsk 
leaves  the  Semipalatinsk  road, 
and  runs  northward  through  the  great  Altai  mining  district 
and  the  city  of  Barnaiil.  There  were  two  colonies  of  political 
exiles  on  our  route — one  of  them  at  the  Cossack  station  of 
Ulbinsk,  160  miles  from  the  Altai  Station,  and  the  other  in 
the  town  of  Ust  Kamenogorsk.  In  each  of  these  places, 
therefore,  we  purposed  to  make  a  short  stay. 

On  the  morning  of  Thursday,  August  6th,  we  packed  our 
baggage  in  the  tdrantds,  ordered  horses  from  the  post 
station,  took  breakfast  for  the  last  time  wdth  Captain  Maief- 
ski  and  his  wife,  whose  kindness  and  warm-hearted  hospi- 


EOCTE    FROM    THE    AI.tAi    STATION 
TO    TOMSK. 


TWO   COLONIES   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  229 

tality  had  made  their  house  seem  to  us  like  a  home,  and 
after  drinking  to  the  health  of  all  our  Altai  friends,  and 
bidding  everybody  good-by  three  or  four  times,  we  rode 
reluctantly  out  of  the  beautiful  alpine  village  and  began 
oui'  descent  to  the  plains  of  the  Irtish. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  describe  our  journey  down  the 
valley  of  the  Biikhtarma  and  across  the  gray,  sterile  steppes 
of  the  upper  Irtish.  It  was  simply  a  reversal  of  the  expe- 
rience through  which  we  had  passed  in  approaching  the 
Altai  Station  three  weeks  before.  Then  we  were  climbing 
from  the  desert  into  the  alps,  while  now  we  were  descending 
from  the  alps  to  the  desert. 

At  six  o'clock  Friday  afternoon  we  reached  the  settlement 
of  Bukhtarma,  w^here  the  Irtish  pierces  a  great  outlying 
spur  of  the  Altai  chain,  and  where  the  road  to  Ust  Kame- 
nogorsk  leaves  the  river  and  makes  a  long  detour  into  the 
mountains.  No  horses  were  obtainable  at  the  post  station; 
the  weather  looked  threatening;  the  road  to  Alexandrof- 
skaya  was  said  to  be  in  bad  condition  owing  to  recent  rains ; 
and  we  had  great  difficulty  in  finding  a  peasant  with  "free" 
horses  who  was  willing  to  take  our  heavy  tdrantds  up  the 
steep,  miry  mountain  road  on  what  promised  to  be  a  dark 
and  stormy  night.  With  the  cooperation  of  the  station 
master,  however,  we  found  at  last  a  man  who  was  ready, 
for  a  suitable  consideration,  to  make  the  attempt,  and  about 
an  hour  before  dark  we  left  Bukhtarma  for  Alexandrofskaya 
with  four  "  free  "  horses.  We  soon  had  occasion  to  regret 
that  we  had  not  taken  the  advice  of  our  driver  to  stop  at 
Bukhtarma  for  the  night  and  cross  the  mountains  by  day- 
light. The  road  was  worse  than  any  neglected  wood-road 
in  the  mountains  of  West  Virginia;  and  before  we  had 
made  half  the  distance  to  Alexandrofskaya,  night  came  on, 
with  a  violent  storm  accompanied  by  lightning,  thunder,  and 
heavy  rain.  Again  and  again  we  lost  the  road  in  the  dark- 
ness ;  two  or  three  times  we  became  almoi?t  hopelessly 
mired  in  bogs  and  sloughs ;  and  finally  our  tdrantds  capsized, 


2[\0  SIBERIA 

or  partly  capsized,  into  a  deep  ditcli  or  gully  worn  out  in 
the  mountain-side  by  falling  water.  The  driver  shouted, 
rursod,  and  lashed  his  dispirited  horses,  while  Mr.  Frost 
and  1  explored  the  gully  with  lighted  wisps  of  hay,  and 
lifted,  tugged,  and  pulled  at  the  heavy  vehicle  until  we  were 
tired  out,  drenched  witli  i-ain,  and  covered  from  head  to  foot 
with  mud  ;  but  all  our  eft'orts  were  fruitless.  The  tdrantds 
could  not  be  extricated.  From  this  predicament  we  were 
tinally  rescued  by  the  drivers  of  three  or  four  telegas,  who 
left  Biikhtarma  with  the  mail  shortly  after  our  departure 
and  who  overtook  us  Just  at  the  time  when  their  services 
were  most  needed.  With  theu'  aid  we  righted  the  capsized 
vehicle,  set  it  again  on  the  road,  and  proceeded.  The  lightly 
loaded  telegas  soon  left  us  behind,  and  knowing  that  we 
could  expect  no  more  help  from  that  source,  and  that 
another  capsize  would  probably  end  our  travel  for  the 
night,  I  walked  ahead  of  our  horses  in  the  miry  road  for 
half  or  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  holding  up  a  white  hand- 
kerchief at  arm's-length  for  the  guidance  of  our  driver,  and 
shouting  directions  and  warnings  to  him  whenever  it  seemed 
necessary.  Tired,  at  last,  of  wading  through  mud  in  Cim- 
merian darkness,  and  ascertaining  the  location  of  holes, 
sloughs,  and  rocks  by  tumbling  into  or  over  them,  I  climbed 
back  into  the  tdrantds  and  wrapped  myself  up  in  a  wet 
blanket,  with  the  determination  to  trust  to  luck.  In  less 
than  fifteen  minutes  our  vehicle  was  again  on  its  side  in 
another  deep  gully.  After  making  a  groping  investigation 
by  the  sense  of  touch,  we  decided  that  the  situation  this 
time  was  hopeless.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to 
send  the  driver  on  horseback  in  search  of  help,  and  to  get 
through  the  night  as  best  we  could  where  we  were.  It  was 
then  about  eleven  o'clock.  The  wind  had  abated,  but  the 
rain  was  still  falling,  and  the  intense  darkness  was  relieved 
only  by  an  occasional  flash  of  lightning.  Cold,  tired,  and 
liungry,  we  "crawled  into  our  capsized  vehicle,  which  still 
afforded  us  some  little  shelter  from  the  rain,  and  sat  there 


TWO    COLONIES    OF    POLITICAL    EXILES 


231 


in  sleepless  discomfort  until  morning.    Just  before  daylight 
our  driver  returned  with  a  Cossack  from  Alexandrofskaya, 


COMING    Dl-    THE    ALEXANDr6fSKAYA-SEIVERNAYA    RAVINE. 

bringing  lanterns,  ropes,  crowbars,  and  fresh  horses,  and 
with  these  helps  and  appliances  we  succeeded  in  righting  the 
tdrantds  and  dragging  it  back  to  the  road. 


jnil  SIBEKIA 

AVo  voju'hod  Aloxandrofskaya  in  tlio  gray  light  of  early 
(lawn,  and  after  drinking  tea  and  sleeping  two  hours  on  the 
floor  of  the  post  station,  we  resumed  our  journey  with  eight 
liorsos  and  three  drivers.  The  road  from  Alexandrofskaya 
to  Seivernaya  runs  for  five  or  six  miles  up  the  steep,  wild 
ravine  that  is  shown  in  the  illustration  on  page  231. 
It  then  erosses  a  series  of  high,  bare  ridges  running  gen- 
erally at  right  angles  to  the  course  of  the  Irtish,  and  finally 
descends,  through  another  deep,  precipitous  ravine,  into 
the  valley  of  Ulbinsk,  which  it  follows  to  Ust  Kameno- 
gorsk.  The  mountains  which  compose  this  spur,  or  out- 
lying branch,  of  the  Altai  system  are  not  high,  but,  as  will 
be  seen  from  the  illustration  on  page  235,  they  are  pictur- 
esque and  effective  in  outlining  and  grouping,  and.  are 
separated  one  from  another  by  extremely  beautiful  valleys 
and  ra\'ines. 

Owing  to  the  bad  condition  of  the  roads  and  the  moun- 
tainous nature  of  the  country,  we  were  more  than  ten  hours 
in  making  the  nineteen  miles  between  Seivernaya  and  Ul- 
binsk, although  we  had  eight  horses  on  the  first  stretch 
and  five  on  the  second.  The  slowness  of  our  progress  gave 
us  an  opportunity  to  walk  now  and  then,  and  to  make  col- 
lections of  flowers,  and  we  kept  the  tdrantds  decorated  all 
day  wdth  goldenrod,  wild  hollyhocks,  long  blue  spikes  of 
monk's-hood,  and  leafy  branches  of  zMmolost  or  Tatar 
honeysuckle,  filled  with  showy  scarlet  or  yellow  berries. 

Late  Saturday  afternoon,  as  the  sun  was  sinking  behind 
the  western  hills,  we  rode  at  a  brisk  trot  down  the  long, 
beautiful  ravine  that  leads  into  the  valley  of  the  Ulba,  and 
before  dark  we  were  sitting  comfortably  in  the  neat  wait- 
ing-room of  the  Ulbinsk  post  station,  refreshing  ourselves 
with  bread  and  milk  and  raspberries. 

Among  the  political  exiles  living  in  Ulbinsk  at  that  time 
were  Alexander  L.  Blok,  a  young  law  student  from  the  city 
of  Saratof  on  the  Volga ;  Apollo  Karelin,  the  son  of  a  well- 
known  photographer  in  Nizhni  Novgorod ;  Seiverin  Gross, 


TWO   COLONIES   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES 


233 


a  young  lawyer  from  the  province  of  Kovno,  and  Mr.  Vitort, 
a  technologist  from  Riga. 

Mr.  Karelin  had  been  accompanied  to  Siberia  by  his 
wife,  but  the  others  were,  I  believe,  unmarried.     I  had 


THE    ULBfNSK    RAVINE. 


learned  the  names,  and  something  of  the  histories,  of  these 
exiles  from  the  politicals  in  Semipalatinsk,  and  there  were 
several  reasons  why  I  particularly  wished  to  see  them  and 
to  make  their  acquaintance.  I  had  an  idea  that  perhaps 
the  politicals  in  Semipalatinsk  were  above  the  average 
level  of  administrative  exiles  in  intelligence  and  education 


234  SIBERIA 

—that  thoy  were  uiiusiuiUy  favorable  specimens  of  their 

^.jass, aiul  it  seemed  to  me  not  improbable  that  in  the 

wilder  and  remoter  parts  of  Western  Siberia  I  should  find 
types  that  would  correspond  more  nearly  to  the  conception 
of  nihilists  that  I  had  formed  in  America. 

Before  we  had  been  in  the  village  an  hour,  two  of  the 
exiles— Messrs.  Blok  and  Gross— called  upon  us  and  intro- 
duced themselves.  Mr.  Blok  won  my  heart  from  the  very 
first.  He  was  a  man  twenty-six  or  twenty-eight  years  of 
age,  of  medium  height  and  athletic  figure,  with  light-brown 
hair,  blue  eyes,  and  a  beardless  but  strong  and  resolute 
face,  which  seemed  to  me  to  express  intelligence,  earnest- 
ness, and  power  in  every  line.  It  was,  in  the  very  best  sense 
of  the  word,  a  ^700^  face,  and  I  could  no  more  help  liking  and 
trusting  it  than  I  could  help  breathing.  Marcus  Aurelius 
somewhere  says,  with  coarse  vigor  of  expression,  that  "a 
man  who  is  honest  and  good  ought  to  be  exactly  like  a 
man  who  smells  strong,  so  that  the  bystander,  as  soon  as 
he  comes  near,  must  smell,  whether  he  choose  or  not."  Mr. 
Blok's  honesty  and  goodness  seemed  to  me  to  be  precisely 
of  this  kind,  and  I  found  myself  regarding  him  with  friendly 
sympathy,  and  almost  with  affection,  long  before  I  could 
assign  any  reason  for  so  doing.  Mr.  Gross  was  a  rather 
handsome  man,  perhaps  thirty  years  of  age,  with  brown 
hair,  full  beard  and  mustache,  gray  eyes,  and  clearly  cut, 
regular  features.  He  talked  in  an  eager,  animated  way, 
with  an  affectionate,  caressing  modulation  of  the  voice,  and 
had  a  habit  of  unconsciously  opening  his  eyes  a  little  more 
widely  than  usual  as  an  expression  of  interest  or  emotion. 
Both  of  the  young  men  were  university  graduates;  both 
spoke  French  and  German,  and  Mr.  Gross  read  English; 
both  were  particularly  interested  in  questions  of  political 
economy,  and  either  of  them  might  have  been  taken  for  a 
young  professor,  or  a  post-graduate  student,  in  the  Johns 
Hopkins  University.  I  had  not  talked  with  them  an  hour 
before  I  became  satisfied  that  in  intellig:ence  and  culture 


TWO   COLONIES   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES 


235 


they  were  fully  abreast  of  the  Semipalatinsk  exiles,  and 
that  I  should  have  to  look  for  the  wild,  fanatical  nihilists 
of  my  imagination  in  some  part  of  Siberia  more  remote 
than  Ulbinsk. 

We  talked  in  the  post  station  until  about  nine  o'clock, 
and  then,  at  Mr.  Blok's  suggestion,  made  a  round  of  calls 


TUE    VALLEV    OF    ULBlNSlv. 


upon  the  other  political  exiles  in  the  village.  They  were 
all  living  in  wi^etehedly  furnished  log  houses  rented  from 
the  Ulbinsk  Cossacks,  and  were  surrounded  by  unmistak- 
able evidences  of  hardship,  privation,  and  straitened  circum- 
stances ;  but  they  seemed  to  be  trying  to  make  the  best  of 
their  situation,  and  I  cannot  remember  to  have  heard  any- 
where that  night  a  l)itter  complaint  or  a  single  reference  tt) 


•_);U»  SIBEIUA 

personal  oxpovienee  tliat  seemed  to  be  made  for  the  purpose 
of  exeiting  our  sympathy.  If  they  suffered,  they  bore  their 
sutfering  with  dignity  and  self-control.  All  of  them  seemed 
to  be  physically  well  except  Mrs.  Kai'elin,  who  looked  thin, 
pale,  and  careworn,  and  Mr.  Vitort,  who  had  been  three 
times  in  exile  and  ten  years  in  prison  or  in  Siberia,  and  who, 
1  thought,  would  not  live  much  longer  to  trouble  the 
Government  that  had  wrecked  his  life.  Although  only 
forty-five  years  of  age,  he  seemed  greatly  broken,  walked 
feebly  with  a  cane,  and  suffered  constantly  from  rheuma- 
tism contracted  in  damp  prison  cells.  He  was  one  of  the 
best-informed  exiles  that  I  met  in  Western  Siberia,  and  was 
the  first  to  tell  me  of  the  death  of  General  Grant.  We  had 
a  long  talk  about  the  United  States,  in  the  course  of  which 
he  asked  many  questions  concerning  our  civil  war,  the  con- 
stitutional amendments  adopted  after  the  war,  the  balance 
of  parties  in  Congress,  and  the  civil  service  reform  policy  of 
President  Cleveland,  which  showed  that  he  had  more  than 
a  superficial  acquaintance  with  our  political  history.  In 
the  houses  of  all  the  exiles  in  Ulbinsk,  no  matter  how 
wi'etchedly  they  might  be  furnished,  I  found  a  writing-desk 
or  table,  books,  and  such  magazines  as  the  Revue  des 
Beux  Mondes,  and  the  Russki  Velstnik,  or  Russian 
Messenger.  In  the  house  of  Mr.  Blok  there  was  a  small 
but  well-selected  library,  in  which  I  noticed,  in  addition  to 
Russian  books,  a  copy  of  Longfellow's  poems,  in  English ; 
Maine's  "Ancient  Law,"  and  "Village  Communities  " ;  Bain's 
"  Logic  " ;  Mill's  "  Political  Economy  " ;  Lecky's  "  History  of 
Rationalism  "  (an  expurgated  Russian  edition) ;  Spencer's 
"  Essays  :  Moral,  Political,  and  Esthetic,"  and  his  "  Princi- 
ples of  Sociology";  Taine's  "History  of  English  Litera- 
ture " ;  Laboulaye's  "  History  of  the  United  States,"  and  a 
large  number  of  French  and  German  works  on  jurisprudence 
and  political  economy.  I  need  hardly  call  attention,  I 
think,  to  the  fact  that  men  who  read  and  carry  to  Siberia 
with   them   such   books   as   these   are   not  wild  fanatics. 


TWO   COLONIES   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  237 

nor  "ignorant  shoemakers  and  mechanics,"  as  they  were 
once  contemptuonsly  described  to  me  by  a  Russian  officer, 
but  are  serious,  cultivated,  thinking  men.  If  such  men  are 
in  exile  in  a  lonely  Siberian  village  on  the  frontier  of  Mon- 
golia, instead  of  being  at  home  in  the  service  of  the  state — 
so  much  the  worse  for  the  state ! 

We  spent  with  the  political  exiles  in  Ulbinsk  the  greater 
part  of  one  night  and  a  day.  I  became  very  deeply  interested 
in  them,  and  should  have  liked  to  stay  there  and  talk  with 
them  for  a  week ;  but  our  excursion  to  the  Katunski  Alps 
had  occupied  more  time  than  we  had  allotted  to  it,  and  it 
was  important  that  we  should,  if  possible,  reach  the  convict 
mines  of  Eastern  Siberia  before  the  coming  on  of  winter. 
Sunday  afternoon  at  four  o'clock  we  set  out  for  Ust 
Kamenogorsk.  Messrs.  Blok  and  Karelin  accompanied  us 
on  horseback  as  far  as  the  ferry  across  the  Ulba,  and  then, 
after  bidding  us  a  hearty  and  almost  affectionate  good-by, 
and  asking  us  not  to  forget  them  when  we  should  return  to 
"  a  freer  and  happier  country,"  they  remounted  their  horses 
and  sat  motionless  in  their  saddles,  watching  us  while  we 
were  being  ferried  over  the  river.  When  we  were  ready  to 
start  on  the  other  side,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  they 
waved  their  handkerchiefs,  and  then,  taking  off  their  hats, 
bowed  low  towards  us  in  mute  farewell  as  we  dashed  away 
into  the  forest.  If  these  pages  should  ever  be  read  in  one 
of  the  lonely  cabins  of  the  political  exiles  in  Ulbinsk,  the 
readers  may  feel  assured  that  "in  a  freer  and  happier 
country"  we  have  not  forgotten  them,  but  think  of  them 
often,  with  the  sincerest  esteem  and  the  most  affectionate 
sympathy. 

We  reached  Ust  Kamenogorsk  before  dark  Sunday  after- 
noon and  took  up  our  quarters  in  the  post  station.  The 
town,  which  contains  about  5000  inhabitants,  is  a  collection 
of  600  or  800  houses,  built  generally  of  logs,  and  is  situated 
in  the  midst  of  a  treeless  plain  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
Irtish,  just  where  the  latter  is  joined  by  its  tributary  the 


238 


SIBERIA 


Ulba.     It  contains  one  or  two  Tatar  mosques,  two  or  three 
Russian  chnrelies  with  colored  domes  of  tin,  and  an  ostrog, 


or  fortress,  consisting  of  a  high  quadrangular  earthen  wall 
or  embankment,  surrounded  by  a  dry  moat,  and  inclosing 
a  white-walled  jjrison,  a  church,  and  a  few  Government 
buildings.     The  mosques,  the  white- turbaned  mullas,  the 


TWO   COLONIES   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  239 

hooded  Kirghis  horsemen  in  the  streets,  the  morning  and 
evening  cry  of  the  muezzins,  and  the  files  of  Bactrian 
camels,  which  now  and  then  come  pacing  slowly  and  sol- 
emnly in  from  the  steppe,  give  to  the  town  the  same  Ori- 
ental appearance  that  is  so  noticeable  in  Semipalatinsk, 
and  that  suggests  the  idea  that  one  is  in  northern  Africa 
or  in  Central  Asia,  rather  than  in  Siberia. 

While  we  were  drinking  tea  in  the  post  station  we  were 
surprised  by  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Gross,  who  had  come 
from  Ulbmsk  to  Ust  Kamenogorsk  that  morning,  and  had 
been  impatiently  awaiting  our  arrival.  He  had  hardly  taken 
his  seat  when  the  wife  of  the  station-master  announced  that 
a  Russian  officer  had  come  to  call  on  us,  and  before  I  had 
time  to  ask  Mr.  Gross  whether  his  relations  with  the  Rus- 
sian authorities  were  pleasant  or  unpleasant,  the  officer, 
dressed  in  full  uniform,  had  entered  the  room.  I  was  em- 
barrassed for  an  instant  by  the  awkwardness  of  the  sit- 
uation. I  knew  nothing  of  the  officer  except  his  name, 
and  it  was  possible,  of  course,  that  upon  finding  a  political 
exile  there  he  might  behave  towards  the  latter  in  so  offen- 
sive a  manner  as  to  make  some  decisive  action  on  my  part 
inevitable.  I  could  not  permit  a  gentleman  who  had  called 
upon  us  to  be  offensively  treated  at  our  table,  even  if  he 
was  officially  regarded  as  a  "  criminal "  and  a  "  nihilist." 
Fortunately  my  apprehensions  proved  to  be  groundless. 
Mr.  Shaitanof,  the  Cossack  officer  who  had  come  to  see  us, 
was  a  gentleman,  as  well  as  a  man  of  tact  and  good  breed- 
ing, and  whatever  he  may  have  thought  of  the  presence  of 
a  political  exile  in  our  quarters  so  soon  after  our  arrival, 
he  manifested  neither  surprise  nor  annoyance.  He  bowed 
courteously  when  I  introduced  Mr.  Gross  to  him,  and  in 
five  minutes  they  were  engaged  in  an  animated  discussion 
of  bee-keeping,  silk-worm  culture,  and  tobacco-growing. 
Mr.  Shaitanof  said  that  he  had  been  making  some  experi- 
ments near  Ust  Kamenogorsk  with  mulberry  trees  and 
Virginian  and  Cuban  tobacco,  and  had  been  so  successful 


240  SIBERIA 

that  ho  hoped  to  introdueo  silk-worm  culture  there  the  next 
year,  and  to  substitute  for  the  coarse  native  tobacco  some 
of  the  liner  sorts  from  the  West  Indies  and  the  United 
States. 

After  half  an  hour  of  pleasant  conversation  Mr.  Shaita- 
nof  bade  us  good-night,  and  Mr.  Gross,  Mr.  Frost,  and  1 
went  to  call  on  the  political  exiles.  In  anticipation  of  our 
coming,  ten  or  fifteen  of  them  had  assembled  in  one  of  the 
hirge  upper  rooms  of  a  two-story  log  building  near  the 
center  of  the  town,  which  served  as  a  residence  for  one  of 
tliem  and  a  place  of  rendezvous  for  the  others.  It  is,  of 
course,  impracticable,  as  well  as  unnecessary,  to  describe 
and  characterize  all  of  the  political  exiles  in  the  Siberian 
towns  and  villages  through  which  we  passed.  The  most 
that  I  aim  to  do  is  to  give  the  reader  a  general  idea  of 
their  appearance  and  behavior,  and  of  the  impression  that 
they  made  upon  me.  The  exiles  in  Ust  Kamenogorsk  did 
not  dilfer  essentially  from  those  in  Ulbinsk,  except  that, 
taken  as  a  body,  they  furnished  a  greater  variety  of  types 
and  represented  a  larger  number  of  social  classes.  In  Ul- 
binsk there  were  only  professional  men  and  students.  In 
Ust  Kamenogorsk  there  was  at  one  end  of  the  social  scale  a 
peasant  shoemaker  and  at  the  other  a  Caucasian  princess, 
while  between  these  extremes  were  physicians,  chemists, 
authors,  publicists,  university  students,  and  landed  pro- 
prietors. Most  of  them  were  of  noble  birth  or  belonged  to 
the  privileged  classes,  and  some  of  them  were  men  and 
women  of  high  cultivation  and  refinement.  Among  those 
with  whom  I  became  best  acquainted  were  Mr.  Kanovalof, 
who  read  English  well  but  spoke  it  imperfectly ;  ^  Mr.  Mil- 
inchuk,  a  dark-haired,  dark-bearded  Greorgian  from  Tiflis ; 
and  Mr.  Adam  Bialoveski,  a  writer  and  publicist  from  the 
pro\ance  of  Mohilef.  The  last-named  gentleman,  who  was 
a  graduate  of  the  university  of  Kiev,  impressed  me  as  a 

1  Mr.  Kanovdlof  committed  suicide  in  Ust  Kdmenogorsk  about  six  months 
after  we  left  there. 


TWO   COLONIES   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  241 

man  of  singular  ability,  fairness,  and  breadth  of  view.  He 
was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  Russian  history  and  juris- 
prudence, as  well  as  with  the  history  and  literature  of  the 
west  European  nations ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that 
he  had  been  in  prison  or  in  exile  moet  of  the  time  since  his 
graduation  from  the  university,  he  regarded  life  and  its 
problems  with  undiminished  cheerfulness  and  courage.  I 
had  a  long  talk  with  him  about  the  Russian  situation,  and 
was  very  favorably  impressed  by  his  cool,  dispassionate 
review  of  the  revolutionary  movement  and  the  measures 
taken  by  the  Government  for  its  suppression.  His  state- 
ments were  entirely  free  from  exaggeration  and  prejudice, 
and  his  opinions  seemed  to  me  to  be  almost  judicially  fair 
and  impartial.  To  brand  such  a  man  as  a  nihilist  was  ab- 
surd, and  to  exile  him  to  Siberia  as  a  dangerous  member 
of  society  was  simply  preposterous.  In  any  other  civilized 
country  on  the  face  of  the  globe  except  Russia  he  would 
be  regarded  as  the  most  moderate  of  liberals. 


16 


OHAPTEE  XI 

EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS 

^■IIIE  colony  of  political  exiles  in  list  Kamenogorsk  was 
JL  the  last  one  that  we  saw  in  the  steppe  territories,  and 
it  seems  to  me  desirable,  before  proceeding  with  the  nar- 
rative of  our  Siberian  journey,  to  describe  more  fully  and 
carefully  the  particular  form  of  punishment  that  these  of- 
fenders were  undergoing  —  a  form  of  punishment  that  is 
known  in  Russia  as  "  exile  by  administrative  process." 

Exile  by  administrative  process  means  the  banishment 
of  an  obnoxious  person  from  one  part  of  the  empire  to 
another  without  the  observance  of  any  of  the  legal  formal- 
ities that,  in  most  civilized  countries,  precede  the  depri- 
vation of  rights  and  the  restriction  of  personal  liberty. 
The  obnoxious  person  may  not  be  guilty  of  any  crime,  and 
may  not  have  rendered  himself  amenable  in  any  way  to 
the  laws  of  the  state,  but  if,  in  the  opinion  of  the  local 
authorities,  his  presence  in  a  particular  place  is  "preju- 
dicial to  public  order,"  or  "incompatible  with  public  tran- 
quillity," he  may  be  arrested  without  a  warrant,  may  be 
held  from  two  weeks  to  two  years  in  prison,  and  may  then 
be  removed  by  force  to  any  other  place  within  the  limits 
of  the  empire  and  there  be  put  under  police  surveillance 
for  a  period  of  from  one  year  to  ten  years.  He  may  or  may 
not  be  informed  of  the  reasons  for  this  summary  proceed- 
ing, but  in  either  case  he  is  perfectly  helpless.  He  cannot 
examine  the  witnesses  upon  whose  testimony  his  presence 
is  declared  to  be  "  prejudicdal  to  public  order."     He  cannot 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS  248 

summon  friends  to  prove  his  loyalty  and  good  character, 
without  great  risk  of  bringing  upon  them  the  same  calamity 
that  has  befallen  him.  He  has  no  right  to  demand  a  trial, 
or  even  a  hearing.  He  cannot  sue  out  a  writ  of  habeas 
corpus.  He  cannot  appeal  to  his  fellow-citizens  through 
the  press.  His  communications  with  the  world  are  so  sud- 
denly severed  that  sometimes  even  his  own  relatives  do  not 
know  what  has  happened  to  him.  He  is  literally  and  abso- 
lutely without  any  means  whatever  of  self-defense.  To 
show  the  natiu'e  of  the  evidence  upon  which  certain  classes 
of  Russians  are  banished  to  Siberia,  and  to  illustrate  the 
working  of  the  system  generally,  I  will  give  a  few  cases  of 
administrative  exile  from  the  large  number  recorded  in 
my  note-books. 

Some  of  the  readers  of  this  chapter  will  perhaps  remem- 
ber a  young  naval  officer  named  Constantine  Staniukovich, 
who  was  attached  to  the  staff  of  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis 
at  the  time  of  the  latter's  visit  to  the  United  States.  From 
the  fact  that  I  saw  in  Mr.  Staniukovich's  house  in  Tomsk 
the  visiting  cards  of  people  well  known  in  New  York  and 
San  Francisco,  I  infer  that  he  went  a  good  deal  into  society 
here  and  that  he  may  still  be  recalled  to  mind  by  persons 
who  met  him.  He  was  the  son  of  a  Russian  admiral,  was 
an  officer  of  great  promise,  and  had  before  him  the  prospect 
of  a  brilliant  career  in  the  Russian  naval  service.  He  was, 
however,  a  man  of  broad  and  liberal  views,  with  a  natural 
taste  for  literary  pursuits,  and  after  his  return  from  Amer- 
ica he  resigned  his  position  in  the  navy  and  became  an 
author.  He  wrote  a  number  of  novels  and  plays  which 
were  fairly  successful,  but  which,  in  the  language  of  the 
censor,  "  manifested  a  pernicious  tendency,"  and  in  1882 
or  1883  he  purchased  a  well-known  Russian  magazine  in  St. 
Petersburg  called  the  D'lelo  and  became  its  editor  and  pro- 
prietor. He  spent  a  considerable  part  of  the  summer  of 
1884  abroad,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  that  year  left  his  wife 
and  children  at  Baden-Baden  and  started  for  St.  Petersburg. 


•J44  SIBERIA 

At  tlu'  Russian  Iroiitior  station  of  Verzhbolof  he  was  sud- 
denly arii'sted,  was  taken  thence  to  St.  Petersburg  under 
L,aiard,  and  was  tliero  thrown  into  tlie  fortress  of  Petropav- 
lovsk.  His  wife,  knowing  nothing  of  this  misfortune,  con- 
tinued to  write  to  him  at  St.  Petersburg  without  getting  any 
answers  to  her  letters,  until  finally  she  became  alarmed,  and 
telegraphed  to  the  editorial  department  of  the  Dielo,  asking 
what  had  happened  to  her  husband  and  why  he  did  not 
write  to  her.  The  managing  editor  of  the  magazine  replied 
that  Mr.  Staniukovich  was  not  there,  and  that  they  had 
supposed  him  to  be  still  in  Baden-Baden.  Upon  the  receipt 
of  this  telegram,  Mrs.  Staniukovich,  thoroughly  frightened, 
proceeded  at  once  with  her  children  to  St.  Petersburg. 
Notliing  whatever  could  be  learned  there  with  regard  to 
her  husband's  whereabouts.  He  had  not  been  seen  at  the 
editorial  rooms  of  the  Dielo,  and  none  of  his  friends  had 
heard  anything  of  or  from  him  in  two  weeks.  He  had  sud- 
denly and  mysteriously  disappeared.  At  last,  after  days  of 
torturing  anxiety,  Mrs.  Staniukovich  was  advised  to  make 
inquiries  of  General  Orzhefski,  the  chief  of  gendarmes.  She 
did  so,  and  found  that  her  husband  was  a  prisoner  in  one  of 
the  casemates  of  the  Petropavlovsk  fortress.  The  police,  as 
it  afterward  appeared,  had  for  some  time  been  intercepting 
and  reading  his  letters,  and  had  ascertained  that  he  was  in 
correspondence  with  a  well-known  Russian  revolutionist 
who  was  then  living  in  Switzerland.  The  correspondence 
was  perfectly  innocent  in  its  character,  and  related  solely 
to  the  business  of  the  magazine ;  but  the  fact  that  an  ed- 
itor, and  a  man  of  known  liberal  views,  was  in  communi- 
cation with  a  political  refugee  was  regarded  as  sufficient 
evidence  that  his  presence  in  St.  Petersburg  would  be 
"  prejudicial  to  public  order,"  and  his  arrest  followed.  In 
May,  1885,  he  was  exiled  for  three  years  by  administrative 
process  to  the  city  of  Tomsk  in  Western  Siberia.  The 
publication  of  the  magazine  was  of  course  suspended  in 
consequence  of  the  imprisonment  and  ultimate  banishment 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTEATIVE   PROCESS  245 

of  its  owner,  and  Mr.  Staniukovich  was  financially  ruined. 
If  the  Eussian  Government  deals  in  this  arbitrary  way  with 
men  of  rank,  wealth,  and  high  social  position  in  the  capital 
of  the  empire,  it  can  be  imagined  what  treatment  is  ac- 
corded to  authors,  physicians,  students,  and  small  landed 
proprietors  whose  presence  is  regarded  as  "prejudicial  to 
public  order"  in  the  provinces. 

In  the  year  1880  the  well-known  and  gifted  Russian 
novelist  Vladimir  Korolenko,  two  of  whose  books  have 
recently  been  translated  into  English  and  published  in 
Boston,  ^  was  exiled  to  Eastern  Siberia  as  a  result  of  what 
the  Government  itself  finally  admitted  to  be  an  official 
mistake.  Through  the  influence  of  Prince  Imeretinski,  Mr. 
Korolenko  succeeded  in  getting  this  mistake  corrected  be- 
fore he  reached  his  ultimate  destination  and  was  released  in 
the  West  Siberian  city  of  Tomsk.  Hardly  had  he  returned, 
however,  to  European  Russia,  when  he  was  called  upon  to 
take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  Alexander  III.,  and  to  swear 
that  he  would  betray  every  one  of  his  friends  or  acquain- 
tances whom  he  knew  to  be  engaged  in  revolutionary  or 
anti-Government  work.  No  honorable  and  self-respecting 
man  could  take  such  an  oath  as  that,  and  of  course  Mr. 
Korolenko  declined  to  do  so.  He  was  thereupon  exiled  by 
administrative  process  to  the  East  Siberian  territory  of 
Yakutsk,  where,  in  a  wretched  native  iiMs,  he  lived  for 
about  three  years.- 

Mr.  Borodin,  another  Russian  author  and  a  well-known 
contributor  to  the  Russian  magazine  Annals  of  the  Father- 
land, was  banished  to  the  territory  of  Yakutsk  on  account 
of  the  alleged  "  dangerous  "  and  "  pernicious  "  character  of 
a  certain  manuscript  found  in  his  house  by  the  police  during 

1  "The  Vagrant,"  a  series  of  sketches  the  well-known  author  S.  A.  Priklonski 
of  Siberian  life  and  experience,  and  in  the  newspaper  Zemstvo  for  1881,  No. 
"  The  Blind  Musician."  10,  p.    19.     Korolenko  has  been  four 

2  A  statement  of  the  circumstances  times  banished  to  various  parts  of  the 
of  Mr,  Korolenko's  first  exile  to  Siberia  empire  without  trial  or  hearing. 

was  published  over  the  signature  of 


•_'4(i  SIBERIA 

a  soaii'h.  Tliis  inanuseript  was  a  spare  copy  of  an  article 
upon  the  I'cononiic  coDditioii  of  the  province  of  Viatka, 
wliii'h  Mr.  Borodin  had  written  and  sent  to  the  above- 
nanuHl  magazine,  but  which,  up  to  that  time,  had  not  been 
pubHshed.  The  author  went  to  Eastern  Siberia  in  a  con- 
vict's gray  overcoat  with  a  yellow  ace  of  diamonds  on  his 
back,  and  three  or  four  months  after  his  arrival  in  Yakutsk 
111'  liad  tlie  ]:)k^asure  of  reading  in  the  Annals  of  the  Father- 
land tlie  very  same  article  for  which  he  had  been  exiled. 
The  Minister  of  the  Interior  had  sent  him  to  Siberia  merely 
for  having  in  his  possession  what  the  police  called  a 
"dangerous"  and  "pernicious"  manuscript,  and  then  the 
St.  Petersburg  committee  of  censorship  had  certified  that 
another  copy  of  that  same  manuscript  was  perfectly  harm- 
less, and  had  allowed  it  to  be  published,  without  the  change 
of  a  line,  in  one  of  the  most  popular  and  widely  circulated 
magazines  in  the  emjDire.^ 

A  gentleman  named  Achkin,  in  Moscow,  was  exiled  to 
Siberia  by  administrative  process  in  1885  merely  because, 
to  adopt  the  language  of  the  order  that  was  issued  for  his 
arrest,  he  was  "suspected  of  an  intention  to  put  himself 
into  an  illegal  situation."  The  high  crime  which  Mr.  Ach- 
kin was  "suspected  of  an  intention"  to  commit  was  the 
taking  of  a  fictitious  name  in  the  place  of  his  own.  Upon 
what  ground  he  was  "  suspected  of  an  intention  "  to  do  this 
terrible  thing  he  never  knew. 

Another  exile    of    my    acquaintance,   Mr.    Y ,    was 

banished  merely  because  he  was  a  friend  of  Mr.  Z ,  who 

was  awaiting  trial  on  the  charge  of  political  conspiracy. 

Wlien  Mr.  Z 's  case  came  to  a  judicial  investigation  he 

was  found  to  be  innocent  and  was  acquitted ;  but  in  the  mean- 

1  Zemstvo,  1881,  No.  10,  p.  19.     It  is  of  Mr.  Koroleuko  was  published  at  the 

not  often,  of  course,  that  facts  of  this  time  when  the  liberal  ministry  of  Loris- 

kind,  which  are  so   damaging  to  the  Melikof  was  in  power,  just  at  the  close 

Government,    get    into    the    Russian  of  the  reign  of  the  late  Tsar,  when  the 

newspaper  press.     The  account  of  Mr.  strictness  of  the  censorship  was  greatly 

Borodin's  experience  and  of  the  exile  relaxed. 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS  247 

time  Mr.  Y ,  merely  for  being  a  friend  of  this  innocent 

man,  had  gone  to  Siberia  by  administrative  process. 

In  another  case  a  young  student,  called  Vladimir  Sidorski 
(I  use  a  fictitious  name),  was  arrested  by  mistake  instead  of 
another  and  a  different  Sidorski  named  Victor,  whose 
presence  in  Moscow  was  regarded  by  somebody  as  "  preju- 
dicial to  public  order."  Vladimir  protested  that  he  was  not 
Victor,  that  he  did  not  know  Victor,  and  that  his  arrest  in 
the  place  of  Victor  was  the  result  of  a  stupid  blunder ;  but 
his  protestations  were  of  no  avail.  The  police  were  too  much 
occupied  in  unearthing  what  they  called  "conspiracies" 
and  looking  after  "  untrustworthy "  people  to  devote  any 
time  to  a  troublesome  verification  of  an  insignificant  stu- 
dent's identity.  There  must  have  been  something  wrong 
about  him,  they  argued,  or  he  would  not  have  been  arrested, 
and  the  safest  thing  to  do  with  him  was  to  send  him  to 
Siberia,  whoever  he  might  be — and  to  Siberia  he  was  sent. 
When  the  convoy  officer  called  the  roll  of  the  out-going 
exile  party,  Vladimir  Sidorski  failed  to  answer  to  Victor 
Sidorski's  name,  and  the  officer,  with  a  curse,  cried  "  Victor 
Sidorski !     Why  don't  you  answer  to  your  name  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  my  name,"  replied  Vladimir,  "  and  I  won't 
answer  to  it.  It 's  another  Sidorski  who  ought  to  be  going 
to  Siberia." 

"  What  is  your  name,  then  ?  " 

Vladimir  told  him.  The  officer  coolly  erased  the  name 
"  Victor  "  in  the  roll  of  the  party,  inserted  the  name  "  Vla- 
dimir," and  remarked  cynically,  "  It  does  n't  make  a 

bit  of  difference ! " 

In  the  years  1877,  1878,  and  1879,  no  attempt  was  made, 
apparently,  by  the  Government  to  ascertain  whether  an 
arrested  person  was  deserving  of  exile  or  not,  nor  even  to 
ascertain  whether  the  man  or  woman  exiled  was  the  iden- 
tical person  for  whom  the  order  of  banishment  had  been 
issued.  The  whole  system  was  a  chaos  of  injustice,  acci- 
dent, and  caprice.     Up  to  November,  1878,  as  appears  from 


'J4S  SIBERIA 

ail  official  circular  to  provincial  governors,  the  local  author- 
ities (lid  not  even  take  the  trouble  to  make  a  report  of 
political  arrests  to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior.'  If  a  man 
was  taken  into  custody  as  a  political  otfender,  that,  in  many 
cases,  was  the  end  of  it  so  far  as  an  investigation  was  con- 
cerned. The  fact  that  he  had  been  arrested  by  mistake,  or 
in  the  place  of  some  other  person,  did  not  necessarily  insure 
liis  release.  The  local  authorities  reversed  the  humane  rule 
of  Catharine  II.  and  acted,  in  political  cases,  upon  the  prin- 
ciple that  it  is  better  to  punish  ten  innocent  persons  than  to 
allow  one  criminal  to  escape. 

The  above-cited  case  of  the  student  Sidorski  is  by  no 
means  exceptional.  In  the  open  letter  to  the  Tsar  for 
which  Madame  Tsebrikova  has  recently  been  exiled  to  the 
province  of  Vologda,  the  reader  will  find  a  brief  statement 
of  a  similar  case  in  which  two  brothers  were  banished  by 
mistake  in  place  of  two  other  brothers  of  like  name  but  of 
dift'erent  family.  The  banished  young  men  were  the  sole 
support  of  their  widowed  mother  and  a  fifteen-year-old 
sister.  When,  at  last,  the  blunder  was  discovered  and  the 
innocent  brothers  were  permitted  to  return  to  their  home, 
they  found  that  their  mother  had  died  of  grief  and  priva- 
tion, and  that,  after  her  death,  their  child-sister  had  been 
sold  by  a  boarding-house  keeper  into  a  house  of  prosti- 
tution. "  What  must  have  been  the  feeling  of  those  young 
men  towards  the  Government,"  Madame  Tsebrikova  asks, 
"  when  they  came  back  and  were  informed  of  their  mother's 
death  and  their  sister's  shame  I "  In  the  light  of  such  facts 
terrorism  ceases  to  be  an  unnatural  or  an  inexplicable  phe- 
nomenon. Wrong  a  man  in  that  way,  deny  him  all  redress, 
exile  him  again  if  he  complains,  gag  him  if  he  cries  out, 
strike  him  in  the  face  if  he  struggles,  and  at  last  he  will  stab 
and  throw  bombs.  It  is  useless  to  say  that  the  Russian  Gov- 
ernment does  not  exasperate  men  and  women  in  this  way. 

1  Circular  letter  from  the  Departmeut  of  Executive  Police  No.  159,  November  4, 
1878,  in  "  Prison  Circulars,"  p.  655.    Ministry  of  the  Interior,  St.  Petersburg,  1880. 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS  249 

The  ease  of  Madame  Tsebrikova  herself  is  a  recent  case  in 
point.  For  merely  writing  out  the  above  story  of  injustice 
and  other  stories  like  it,  and  sending  them  to  Alexander 
III.  with  an  earnest  and  respectful  letter  imploring  him  to 
right  such  wrongs,  Madame  Tsebrikova  has  been  exiled  by 
administrative  process  to  a  remote  village  in  the  province 
of  Vologda.  The  only  results  of  her  letter  were  a  decree 
of  banishment  and  a  contemptuous  inquiry  from  the  Tsar, 
"  What  business  is  it  of  hers  ? " 

The  two  things  that  are  most  exasperating  to  a  liberal 
and  warm-hearted  young  Russian  are,  first,  official  lawless- 
ness [pi'oizvol]  in  the  sphere  of  personal  rights,  and  second, 
the  suffering  brought  by  such  lawlessness  upon  near 
relatives  and  dear  friends.  In  exile  by  administrative  pro- 
cess these  two  exasperating  agencies  operate  conjointly. 
The  suffering  of  a  loved  wife,  or  the  loss  of  an  affectionate 
child,  is  hard  enough  to  bear  when  it  comes  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  nature  and  seems  to  be  inevitable ;  but  when  it 
comes  as  the  direct  result  of  unnecessary  causes,  such  as 
injustice,  tyi'anny,  and  official  caprice,  it  has  more  than  the 
bitterness  of  death,  and  it  arouses  fiercer  passions  than 
those  that  carry  men  into  the  storm  of  battle.  As  an  illus- 
tration of  this  I  will  relate  briefly  the  story  of  a  young 
Russian  surgeon  who  is  known  to  a  number  of  persons  in 
the  United  States. 

In  the  year  1879  there  was  living  in  the  town  of  Ivango- 
rod,  in  the  province  of  Chernigof,  a  skilful  and  accom- 
plished young  surgeon  named  Dr.  Bieli.  Although  he  was 
a  man  of  liberal  views,  he  was  not  an  agitator  nor  a 
revolutionist,  and  had  taken  no  active  part  in  political 
affaii^s.  Some  time  in  th^  late  winter  or  early  spring  of 
1879  there  came  to  him,  with  letters  of  introduction,  two 
young  women  who  had  been  studying  in  one  of  the  medical 
schools  for  women  in  St.  Petersburg,  and  had  been  expelled 
and  ordered  to  return  to  their  homes  in  central  Russia 
on  account  of  their  alleged  political  "  untrustworthiness " 


!.>:)()  SIBERIA 

[nihlmf(nin(ri(khnosf].  They  were  very  anxious  to  complete 
tlu'ir  ediu'ation  and  to  fit  themselves  for  useful  work  among 
the  peasants  ;  anil  they  begged  Dr.  Bieli  to  aid  them  in 
their  studies,  to  hear  their  recitations,  and  to  allow  them  to 
make  use  of  iiis  library  and  the  facilities  of  his  office.  As 
they  were  both  in  an  "illegal"  position, —  that  is,  were  liv- 
ing in  a  place  where,  without  permission  from  the  author- 
ities, they  had  no  right  to  be, —  it  was  Dr.  Bieli's  duty  as  a 
loyal  subject  to  hand  them  over  to  the  police,  regardless  of 
the  fact  that  they  had  come  to  him  with  letters  of  introduc- 
tion and  a  petition  for  help.  He  happened,  however,  to  be 
a  man  of  courage,  independence,  and  generous  instincts ; 
and,  instead  of  betraying  them,  he  listened  with  sympathy 
to  their  story,  promised  them  his  aid,  introduced  them  to 
his  wife,  and  began  to  give  them  lessons.  The  year  1879  in 
Russia  was  a  year  of  intense  revolutionary  activity.  At- 
tempts were  constantly  being  made  by  the  terrorists  to 
assassinate  high  Government  officials;  and  the  police,  in 
all  parts  of  the  empire,  were  more  than  usually  suspicious 
and  alert.  The  visits  of  the  young  girls  to  Dr.  Bieli's  house 
and  office  soon  attracted  the  attention  of  the  local  authori- 
ties in  Ivangorod,  and  they  took  steps  to  ascertain  who  they 
were  and  where  they  had  come  from.  An  investigation 
showed  that  one  of  them  was  living  on  a  forged  passport, 
while  the  other  had  none,  and  that  both  had  been  expelled 
from  8t.  Petersburg  for  political  "  uutrust worthiness." 
Their  unauthorized  appearance  in  Ivangorod,  when  they 
should  have  been  at  their  homes,  and  their  half-secret 
visits — generally  at  night — to  the  house  of  Dr.  Bieli  were 
regarded  as  evidence  of  a  political  conspiracy,  and  on  the 
10th  of  May,  1879,  both  they  and  the  young  surgeon  were 
arrested  and  exiled  by  administrative  process  to  Siberia. 
Dr.  Bieli  eventually  was  sent  to  the  arctic  village  of  Verk- 
hoyansk, latitude  67.30°,  in  the  province  of  Yakutsk,  where 
he  was  seen  in  1882  by  Engineer  Melville,  Lieutenant 
Danenhower,  Mr.  W.  H.  Grilder,  and  all  the  survivors  of  the 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS  251 

arctic  exploring  steamer  Jeannette,  At  the  time  of  Dr.  Bieli's 
banishment,  his  wife,  a  beautiful  young  woman,  twenty-four 
or  twenty-five  years  of  age,  was  expecting  confinement,  and 
was  therefore  unable  to  go  to  Siberia  with  him.  As  soon  as 
possible,  however,  after  the  birth  of  her  child,  and  before 
she  had  fully  recovered  her  strength,  she  left  her  nursing 
baby  with  relatives  and  started  on  a  journey  of  more  than 
6000  miles  to  join  her  husband  in  a  village  situated  north 
of  the  arctic  circle  and  near  the  Asiatic  pole  of  cold.  She 
had  not  the  necessary  means  to  make  such  a  journey  by 
rail,  steamer,  and  post,  as  Lieutenant  Schuetze  made  it  in 
1885-86,  and  was  therefore  forced  to  ask  permission  of  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior  to  travel  with  a  party  of  exiles.^ 
As  far  as  the  city  of  Tomsk  in  Western  Siberia  both 
political  and  common-criminal  exiles  are  transported  in 
convict  trains  or  barges.  Beyond  that  point  the  common 
criminals  walk,  and  the  politicals  are  carried  in  telegas^  at 
the  rate  of  about  sixty  miles  a  week,  stopping  in  an  etape 
every  third  day  for  rest.  At  this  rate  of  progress  Mrs.  Bieli 
would  have  reached  her  husband's  place  of  exile  only  after 
sixteen  months  of  incessant  hardship,  privation,  and  suffer- 
ing. But  she  did  not  reach  it.  For  many  weeks  her  hope, 
courage,  and  love  sustained  her,  and  enabled  her  to  endure 
without  complaint  the  jolting,  the  suffocating  dust,  the 
scorching  heat,  and  the  cold  autumnal  rains  on  the  road, 
the  bad  food,  the  plank  sleeping-benches,  the  vermin,  and 
the  pestilential  air  of  the  etape s ;  but  human  endurance 
has  its  limits.  Three  or  four  months  of  this  unrelieved 
misery,  with  constant  anxiety  about  her  husband  and  the 
baby  that,  for  her  husband's  sake,  she  had  abandoned  in 
Russia,  broke  down  her  health  and  her  spirit.  She  sank 
into  deep  despondency  and  eventually  began  to  show  signs 
of  mental  aberration.    After  passing  Krasnoyarsk  her  con- 

1  By  Russian  law  a  wife  may  go  to  with  an  exile  party,  lives  on  the  exile 
her  exiled  husband  at  the  expense  of  ration,  sleeps  in  the  roadside  e7ajje5,and 
the  Government,  provided  she  travels    submits  generally  to  prison  discipline. 


lit)- 


SIBEllIA 


(lit  ion  became  such  tliat  any  sudden  shock  was  likely 
eonipletely  to  ovevtlirow  her  reason — and  the  shock  soon 
came.  There  are  two  callages  ni  Eastern  Siberia  whose 
names  are  almost  alike— Verkholensk  and  Verkhoyansk. 
The  lornier  is  situated  on  the  river  Lena,  only  180  miles 
from  Irkutsk,  while  the  latter  is  on  the  head-waters  of  the 
Yaua,  and  is  distant  from  Irkutsk  nearly  2700  miles.  As 
the  party  with  which  she  was  traveling  approached  the 
capital  of  Eastern  Siberia,  her  hope,  strength,  and  courage 
seemed  to  revive.  Her  husband  she  thought  was  only  a  few 
hundred  miles  away,  and  in  a  few  more  weeks  she  would  be 
in  his  arms.  She  talked  of  him  constantly,  counted  the 
verst-po^ts  which  measured  her  slow  progress  towards  him, 
and  literally  lived  upon  the  expectation  of  speedy  reunion 
with  him.  A  few  stations  west  of  Irkutsk  she  accidentally 
became  aware,  for  the  first  time,  that  her  husband  was  not 
in  Verkholensk,  hut  in  Verkhoyansk ;  that  she  was  still 
separated  from  him  by  nearly  3000  miles  of  mountain, 
steppe,  and  forest;  and  that  in  order  to  reach  his  place 
of  banishment  that  year  she  would  have  to  travel  many 
weeks  on  dog  or  reindeer  sledges,  in  terrible  cold,  through 
the  arctic  solitudes  of  northeastern  Asia.  The  sudden 
shock  of  this  discovery  was  almost  immediately  fatal.  She 
became  violently  insane,  and  died  insane  a  few  months  later 
in  the  Irkutsk  prison  hospital,  without  ever  seeing  again 
the  husband  for  whose  sake  she  had  endured  such  mental 
and  physical  agonies. 

I  have  been  compelled  to  restrict  myself  to  the  barest 
outline  of  this  terrible  tragedy;  but  if  the  reader  could 
hear  the  story,  as  I  heard  it,  from  the  lips  of  exiles  who 
traveled  with  Mrs.  Bieli,  and  who  saw  the  flickering  spark 
of  her  reason  go  out,  in  an  East  Siberian  eta2)e,  he  would  not 
wonder  that  exile  by  administrative  process  makes  terror- 
ists, but  rather  that  it  does  not  make  a  nation  of  terrorists.^ 

2  My  authorities  for  the  facts  of  this    of   a  Russian  provincial  assembly,  a 
case  are :  first,  a  well-known  member    man  of  the  highest  character,  who  was 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS 


253 


A  recent  writer  in  the  German  periodical  Unsere  Zeit  of 
Leipzig,  who  signs  himself  "A  Russian  Resident  of  Eastern 
Siberia,"  and  who  is,  apparently,  a  sincere  and  earnest  man, 
attempts  to  lay  the  whole  responsibility  for  exile  by  admin- 
istrative process  upon  the  Russian  revolutionists.  He  ad- 
mits the  truth  of  all  I  have  said  on  the  subject,  and  acknow- 
ledges that  "  no  man  knows  at  what  moment  he  may  be 
seized  and  cast  into  prison  or  doomed  to  exile  without 
even  a  hearing";  but  he  declares  that  "all  this  has  been 
brought  upon  us  by  a  band  so  vile — so  horribly  vile — that 

their  crimes  are  without  parallel But  for  the  nihilists 

of  Kara  there  would  have  never  been  any  administrative 
exile."  ^  The  "  Russian  Resident  of  Eastern  Siberia,"  how- 
ever, is  as  much  mistaken  in  the  explanation  that  he  gives 
of  the  origin  of  administrative  exile,  as  in  the  character 


personally  cognizant  of  the  circum- 
stances attending  Dr.  Bieli's  arrest  and 
banishment ;  second,  exiles  who  went 
to  Siberia  in  the  same  party  with  Dr. 
Bieli ;  and  third,  exiles  —  one  of  them 
a  lady  —  who  were  in  the  same  party 
with  Dr.  Bieli's  wife. 

1  The  passages  of  the  "  Russian  Res- 
ident's" article  to  which  I  desire  to 
call  the  reader's  attention  are  as  fol- 
lows: "And  now  came  the  most  terri- 
ble calamity  of  all — the  delegation  by 
the  Tsar  to  the  administrative  author- 
ities of  the  power  of  exile,  which,  until 
then,  had  been  the  imperial  preroga- 
tive. It  was  a  measure  resorted  to  in 
a  time  of  terrible  necessity,  when  the 
nihilists,  in  the  indulgence  of  their 
bloody  phantasy,  were  recklessly  wield- 
ing the  assassin's  dagger,  and  not  hes- 
itating even  to  hurl  railway  trains  to 
destruction  by  dynamite.  The  power 
of  exile  was  committed  to  the  adminis- 
tration as  a  means  of  precaution.  The 
governors-general  were  intrusted  with 
power  to  banish  all  suspected  persons. 
It  appeared  to  be  the  only  possible 
means  to  counteract  the  nefarious 
doings  of  these  dark  conspirators.  It 
was   an    unfortunate    decision    and   a 


serious  error.  It  did  not  save  the  Tsar 
and  has  done  nothing  for  the  suppres- 
sion of  nihilism  ;  but  the  incalculable 
evil  and  misery  to  which  the  wretched 
system  has  reduced  us  is  indescribable. 
What  Kennan  writes  on  this  head  is 
true,  every  word  of  it.  The  word 
nchlagonadiozhni  [untrustworthy]  has 
become  a  curse-word  in  the  Russian 
language  and  will  be  recalled  with  a 
shudder  by  latest  generations.  This 
is  the  unspeakable  misery  that  the  ter- 
rorists have  plunged  us  into  with  their 
murders.  From  the  day  this  power 
was  delegated,  no  man  knows  at  what 
moment  he  may  be  seized  and  cast  into 
prison  or  doomed  to  exile  without  even 
a  hearing.  All  this  has  been  brought 
upon  us  by  a  band  so  vile  —  so  horribly 
vile  —  that  their  CTimes  are  without 
parallel ;  young  people  from  eighteen 
to  twenty-three,  without  ideals,  with- 
out moral  restraint,  without  regard  for 
family,  fatherland,  or  station,  spread- 
ing blood  and  ruin  at  the  prompting  of 

their  presumptuous  fancies 

The  same  author  wlio  knew  so  well 
how  to  stir  our  sjonpathies  for  unde- 
served sorrow  wields  his  pen  with  equal 
facility  in  denunciation  of  the  just  fate 


27A 


SIBERIA 


that  he  attributes  to  the  Russian  revolutionists.  Exile  by 
adniiuistrative  process  is  not  a  new  thing  in  Russia/  nor 
was  it  first  resorted  to  by  the  Russian  Government  as  an 
extraordinary  and  exceptional  measure  of  self-defense  in 
the  struggle  with  the  revolutionists.  It  is  older  than  ni- 
hilism, it  is  older  than  the  modern  revolutionary  move- 
ment, it  is  older  than  the  hnperial  house  of  Romanof.  It 
has  been  practised  for  centuries  as  a  short  and  easy  method 
of  dealing  with  people  who  happen  to  be  obnoxious  or  in 


of  a  band  of  profligates Are 

Kennan  and  Frost,  perhaps,  of  opinion 
that  tlie  murders  of  Lincoln  and  Gar- 
field are  to  be  reckoned  as  benefac- 
tions to  the  race  ?  Did  it  never  occur 
to  Kennan  that  for  all  the  nameless 
miseries  which  he  depicts  in  the  fii'st 
part  of  his  book  "  [the  first  of  my 
magcazine  articles  I'epublished  in  Ger- 
many in  book  form]  "  we  are  indebted 
to  the  heroes  of  the  second  part — that 
but  for  the  nihilists  of  Kara  there  never 
would  have  been  any  administrative 
exile  ?  "  L  Unsere  Zcit,  Leipzig,  August, 
1890.  Translation  in  the  Literary  Di- 
gest of  the  same  month  and  year.] 

I  shall  recur  in  a  later  chapter  to 
the  controverted  question  of  the  moral 
character  of  the  Eussian  revolutionists, 
but,  in  the  meantime,  it  may  not  be 
out  of  place  to  ask  the  "Russian  Resi- 
dent of  Eastern  Siberia"  whether  it 
never  occurred  to  him  that  an  unpre- 
judiced investigator  who,  he  admits, 
is  perfectly  right  in  his  description  of 
Siberian  prisons,  right  "  beyond  ques- 
tion" in  his  account  of  common-crimi- 
nal exile,  and  right  "to  a  word"  in  his 
statements  concerning  administrative 
banishment,  may,  possibly,  be  right 
also  in  his  estimate  of  the  character  of 
men  with  whom  he  lived  for  a  whole 
year  upon  terms  of  the  closest  inti- 
macy? Did  it  never  occur  to  the 
"Russian  Resident "  that  a  man  who 
tells  the  exact  truth  in  ninety-nine 
consecutive  instances  is  likely  to  tell 
the  exact  truth  also  in  the  one  hun- 
dredth, unless  there  be,  in  that  par- 
ticular case,  some  good  and  previously 


non-existent  reason  for  deception  or 
error  ? 

1  Administrative  punishments  gen- 
erally, as  distinguished  from  judicial 
punishments,  have  been  inflicted  in 
Russia  from  the  very  dawn  of  history. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  eighteentli 
century  the  right  to  inflict  punishment 
by  administrative  process  was  vested 
in  more  than  twenty  different  classes 
of  Russian  officials,  including  gover- 
nors, vice-governors,  vocvods,  comman- 
dants, chiefs  of  detective  police,  ecclesi- 
astical authorities,  chiefs  of  provincial 
bureaus,  excise  officers,  landed  proprie- 
tors, chief  foresters,  post-station  mas- 
ters, officers  of  the  mints,  and  mana- 
gers of  Government  salt  works.  Most  of 
these  officials  were  empowered  not  only 
to  exile  at  their  own  discretion,  but  to 
confiscate  property,  to  inflict  torture,  to 
brand,  and  to  flog  with  the  Icnut.  For 
references  to  the  laws  that  conferred 
such  powers  upon  Russian  officials 
see  "Personal  Detention  as  a  Police 
Measure  to  Insure  Public  Safety,"  by 

I.  Tai-asof,  Professor  of  Criminal  Law 
and  Jurisprudence  in  the  Demidof  Ju- 
ridical Lyceum,  part  2,  p.  9.  Yaros- 
lavl, 1886.  Exile  by  administrative 
process  is  also  specifically  authorized 
in  the  "Statutes  Relating  to  the  Antici- 
pative  Prevention  and  Frustration  of 
Crime,"  articles  1,  300,  316,  and  .334- 
339;  in  the  "Exile   Statutes,"  article 

II,  and  in  article  667,  part  1,  Vol.  II,  of 
the  "  Collection  of  Russian  Laws."  All 
of  these  legal  enactments  originated 
long  prior  to  the  existence  in  Russia  of 
a  revolutionary  party. 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS  255 

the  way,  but  who  cannot  conveniently  be  tried  or  convicted 
in  a  court  of  justice.  If  the  "  Russian  Resident  of  Eastern 
Siberia  "  will  read  attentively  the  works  of  Tarasof,  Serge- 
yefski,  Maximof,  and  Anuchin,  he  will  find  that  adminis- 
trative exile  has  been  not  only  a  recognized,  but  a  well 
established,  method  of  dealing  with  certain  classes  of  of- 
fenders ever  since  the  seventeenth  century.  In  the  reign 
of  the  Emperor  Nicholas,  for  example,  nihilism  had  not  been 
so  much  as  heard  of, —  the  very  word  was  unknown, —  and 
yet  men  and  women  were  being  exiled  to  Siberia  by  admin- 
istrative process,  not  in  hundreds  merely,  but  in  thousands, 
and  not  only  by  order  of  the  Tsar,  but  by  order  of  the 
administrative  authorities,  by  order  of  the  ecclesiastical 
authorities,  by  order  of  the  village  communes,  and  even  by 
order  of  private  landowners.  Most  of  them,  it  is  true,  were 
not  political  offenders ;  but  they  were  none  the  less  enti- 
tled to  a  trial,  and  they  were  all  victims  of  the  system  that 
the  "Russian  Resident"  says  was  brought  into  existence 
half  a  century  later,  "  in  a  time  of  terrible  necessity,  as  the 
only  possible  means  to  counteract  the  nefarious  doings  of 
those  dark  conspirators,"  the  nihilists. 

The  careful  and  exhaustive  researches  of  Anuchin  in  the 
archives  of  the  chief  exile  bureau  {PriMz  o  Silnikh]  at 
Tobolsk,  show  that  between  1827  and  1846  there  was  not  a 
year  in  which  the  number  of  persons  sent  to  Siberia  by 
administrative  process  fell  below  three  thousand,  and  that  it 
reached  a  maximum,  for  a  single  year,  of  more  than  six  thou- 
sand.^    The  aggregate  number  for  the  twenty-year  period  is 

1  The  precise  figures  are  as  follows  :  See  "An  Investigation  of  the  Per- 
centages of  Siberian  Exiles,''  by  E.  N. 
Aniiehin,  chap,  ii,  p.  22.  Memoirs  of 
the  Impei'ial  Russian  Geographical 
Society,  Statistical  Section,  Vol.  Ill, 
St.  Petersburg,  1873. 

As  an  evidence  of  the  trustworthiness 
of  Mr.  Aniichin's  statistics,  it  is  only 
proper  to  mention  the  fact  that,  for  the 
great  work  above  cited,  the  author  was 
awarded  the  Constantine  medal  of  the 
Total  79,909  Imperial  Russian  Geographical  Society 


1827. . 

.6,326 

1837. . 

.3,976 

1828  . 

.  5,613 

1838  . 

.  .4,077 

1829  . 

..3,509 

1839.. 

.  .4,552 

1830.. 

.  3,377 

1840 

.  .4,683 

1831.. 

.  .4,050 

1841  . 

.  4,125 

1832  . 

..3,395 

1842.. 

.  3,737 

1833. 

..3,371 

1843 

4,067 

1834.. 

.  .3,134 

1844 

3,741 

1835.. 

.3,618 

1845 

3,184 

1836 

.4,469 

1840 

2,905 

'2  Mi  SIBERIA 

7i"),l)09.  It  oaii  hardly  be  contended,  I  think,  that  the 
nihilists  or  the  terrorists  are  responsible  for  a  system  that 
luul  sent  eig-hty  thonsand  persons  to  Siberia  without  judicial 
trial,  long  before  such  a  thing  as  a  nihilist  or  a  terrorist 
was  known,  and  before  most  of  the  modern  Russian  revolu- 
tionists were  born.  The  "Russian  Resident  of  Eastern 
Siberia  "  has  simply  put  the  cart  before  the  horse.  It  was 
administrative  exile,  administrative  caprice,  and  the  ab- 
sence of  orderly  and  legal  methods  in  political  cases 
g(Mierally,  that  caused  terrorism,  and  not  terrorism  that 
necessitated  official  lawlessness.  The  wolf  always  contends, 
with  a  show  of  virtuous  indignation,  that  while  he  was 
peacefully  drinking  as  usual,  the  lamb  muddied  the  brook, 
and  thus  compelled  him  to  "  take  exceptional  measures  for 
the  reestablishment  of  public  tranquillity  " ;  but  his  state- 
ment is  very  properly  discredited  when  it  appears  that  he 
was  above  the  lamb  on  the  brook,  and  that,  for  years,  he 
had  been  taking  "  exceptional  measures  "  of  the  same  kind 
with  other  lambs  that  had  not  been  near  the  brook.  To 
defend  or  to  justify  the  crimes  of  the  terrorists  is  not  the 
object  of  my  work ;  but  when  the  history  of  the  nineteenth 
century  in  Russia  shall  have  been  written  by  some  one 
having  access  to  the  secret  archives  of  the  Ministry  of  the 
Interior  and  the  Third  Section  of  the  Tsar's  Chancellery,  it 
will  appear,  I  think,  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  men,  that 
most  of  the  so-called  terroristic  crimes  in  Russia  were 
committed,  not,  as  the  "Russian  Resident"  asserts,  by 
"bloodthirsty  tigers  in  human  form  at  the  prompting  of 

for  1869.     The  book  was  intended  to  sions  of  disapproval  are  contained  in 

comprise  two  volumes,  but  the  second  the  copy  sent  to  the  Smithsonian  Insti- 

volume,   containing  statistics    of    the  tution  at  Washington,  but  they  are  not 

exile  system  since  1846,  has  never  ap-  to  be  found  in  my  copy,  nor  in   any 

peared,  owing  to  "circumstances  over  other  of  later  date  than  the  first  edition, 

which  the  author  has  no  control."    The  The  fact  is  not  without  interest  as  a 

censor  has    even    mutilated  the  first  significant  proof  that  the  Eussian  Gov- 

volume  by  striking  out  Anuehin's  con-  ernment  itself  is  ashamed  of  this  atro- 

demnation  of  exile  by  administrative  ciously  unjust  form  of  exile,  although 

process — the  very  subject  now  under  not  yet  willing  to  abandon  it. 
consideration.     The   author's   expres- 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTKATIVE   PROCESS  257 

presumptuous  fancies,"  but  by  ordinary  men  and  women 
exasperated  to  the  pitch  of  desperation  by  administrative 
suppressionof  free  speech  and  free  thought,  administrative 
arrest  without  warrant,  administrative  imprisonment  for 
years  upon  suspicion,  administrative  banishment  to  the 
arctic  regions  without  trial,  and,  to  crown  all,  administra- 
tive denial  of  every  legal  remedy  and  every  peaceful  means 
of  redress. 

It  is  true  that  in  1879,  as  a  result  of  the  criminal  activ- 
ity of  the  terrorists,  martial  law  was  declared  throughout 
European  Russia,  unlimited  discretionary  power  was  given 
to  governors-general,  and  exile  by  administrative  process, 
as  a  quick  and  convenient  method  of  dealing  with  politi- 
cal suspects,  was  expressly  authorized  by  the  Tsar;  but 
the  imperial  authorization  was  nothing  more  than  a  formal 
sanction  of  a  preexisting  measure,  and  an  intimation  that 
it  might,  thenceforth,  be  given  a  wider  scope.  To  say 
that  this  form  of  exile  was  previously  unknown,  and  that 
it  was  forced  upon  the  Government  by  the  crimes  of  the 
terrorists,  is  to  set  chronology  at  naught  and  to  ignore 
all  the  historical  facts  of  the  case.  The  first  attempt  on 
the  part  of  the  terrorists  to  assassinate  a  Government  of- 
ficial was  the  attempt  of  Vem^^Zasulich  to  kill  General 
Trepof,  the  St.  Petersburg  chief  of  police,  on  the  5th  of 
February,  1878.  Administrative  exile  for  political  reasons 
had  then  been  common  for  almost  a  decade.  If  I  mis- 
take not.  Vera  Zasiilich  herself  had  been  one  of  its  vic- 
tims seven  or  eight  years  before.  I  think  she  was  one  of 
twenty  or  thirty  persons  who  were  tried  before  a  special 
session  of  the  Governing  Senate  in  1871  upon  the  charge 
of  complicity  in  the  Nechaief  conspiracy,  who  were  judi- 
cially declared  to  be  not  guilty,  but  who  were  immediately 
rearrested,  nevertheless,  and  exiled  by  administrative  pro- 
cess, in  defiance  of  all  law  and  in  contemptuous  disregard 
of  the  judgment  of  the  highest  coui't  in  the  empire.  A 
government  that  acts  in  this  way  sows  dragons'  teeth  and 
17 


258  SIBERIA 

has  no  right  to  complain  of  the  harvest.  The  so-called 
"  propagandists "  of  1870-74  did  not  resort  to  violence  in 
any  form,  and  did  not  even  make  a  practice  of  resisting 
arrest,  until  after  the  Government  had  begun  to  exile  them 
to  Siberia  for  life  with  ten  or  twelve  years  of  penal  servi- 
tude, for  offenses  that  were  being  punished  at  the  very 
same  time  in  Austria  with  only  a  few  days — or  at  most  a 
few  weeks — of  personal  detention.^  It  was  not  terrorism 
that  necessitated  administrative  exile  in  Eussia;  it  was 
merciless  severity  and  banishment  without  due  process  of 
law  that  provoked  terrorism. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  reign  of  Alexander  II.,  and  par- 
ticularly between  the  years  1870  and  1880,  administrative 
exile  was  resorted  to,  in  political  cases,  upon  a  scale  never 
before  known,  and  with  a  recklessness  and  cynical  indif- 
ference to  personal  rights  that  were  almost  unparalleled. 
In  Odessa,  General  Todleben,  by  virtue  of  the  unlimited  dis- 
cretionary power  given  him  in  the  Imperial  iiMz  of  April 
17,  1879,  proceeded  to  banish,  without  inquiry  or  dis- 
crimination, the  whole  "  politically  untrustworthy"  class — 
that  is,  to  exile  every  person  whose  loyalty  to  the  existing 
Government  was  even  doubtful."  The  mere  fact  that  a 
man  had  been  registered  as  a  suspect  in  the  books  of  the 
secret  police,  or  had  been  accused,  even  anonymously,  of 
political  disaffection,  was  a  sufficient  reason  for  his  depor- 
tation to  the  remotest  part  of  the  empire.  Parents  who 
had  never  had  a  disloyal  thought  were  exiled  because  their 
children  had  become  revolutionists ;  school-boys  who  hap- 
pened to  be  acquainted  with  political  offenders  were  exiled 
because  they  had  not  betrayed  the  latter  to  the  police; 

1  See  the  reference  by  W.  R.  S.  Eals-  was  one  month  of  imprisonment.  [News- 
ton  to  the  trial  of  Austrian  socialists  at  paper  Golos,  St.  Petersburg,  1880,  Nos. 
Lemberg  in  March,  1877.  ["Russian  122,  123,  125,  126,  127,  and  128.] 
Revolutionary  Literature,"  by  W.  R.  S.  '-^See  the  article  upon  Count  Loris- 
Ralston,  Nineteenth  Century,  May,  1877,  Melikof  in  the  Russian  historical  review 
]).  413.]  See  also  official  report  of  the  Eiisskaya  Starindtov  the  vaonthotJsinu- 
trial  of  Austrian  socialists  in  Cracow,  ary,  1889,  p.  62. 
where  the  severest  sentence  imposed 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS  259 

teachers  were  exiled  for  circulating  copies  of  the  Russian 
magazine  Annals  of  the  Fatherland;  members  of  provin- 
cial assemblies  were  exiled  because  they  insisted  upon 
their  right  to  petition  the  crown  for  the  redress  of  griev- 
ances ;  and  university  students  who  had  been  tried  for 
political  crime  and  duly  acquitted  by  the  courts  were 
immediately  rearrested  and  exiled  by  administrative  pro- 
cess, in  violation  of  the  most  elementary  principles  of 
justice. 

In  December,  1879,  a  young  revolutionist —a  Jew — 
named  Maidanski,  was  hanged  in  Odessa  by  sentence  of  a 
court-martial  for  having  taken  part  in  a  conspiracy  to 
assassinate  a  Government  spy  named  Gorinovich.  His  old 
father  and  mother,  who  lived  in  Elizabethgrad,  came  to 
Odessa  to  have  a  last  interview  with  him  before  he  should 
be  put  to  death ;  but  the  authorities,  instead  of  allowing 
the  aged  parents  to  see  their  condemned  son,  promptly 
arrested  them  both  and  sent  them  to  Eastern  Siberia  by 
administrative  process.  They  were  nothing  but  poor  illit- 
erate peasants,  and  there  was  not  the  least  evidence  to 
show  that  they  had  encouraged  their  son's  criminal  activity, 
or  even  that  they  had  been  aware  of  it ;  but  the  opinion  of 
the  Government  seemed  to  be  that  they  deserved  punish- 
ment for  having  brought  such  a  son  into  the  world.  It 
may  be  thought,  in  the  light  of  more  recent  events,  that 
they  were  treated  in  this  merciless  way  because  they  were 
Jews;  but  the  Government,  at  that  time,  was  dealing  in 
precisely  the  same  manner  with  orthodox  Russians  belong- 
ing to  the  educated  and  privileged  classes. 

In  the  late  summer  or  early  fall  of  1879  two  educated 
young  women  from  Nikolaief — the  sisters  Livandofskaya — 
were  exiled  for  political  reasons  to  different  parts  of  Eastern 
Siberia.  One  of  them,  named  Vera,  was  banished  by  ad- 
ministrative process  to  Minusinsk  in  the  province  of  Yeni- 
seisk, while  the  other  was  sentenced  by  a  court-martial  to 
forced  colonization  in  the  little  town  of  Kirensk  on   the 


•2(\()  SIBERIA 

rivev  Lena.'  If  the  Government  had  been  satisfied  with  the 
deportation  of  these  two  young  women  only,  there  would 
liave  been  nothing  unusual  or  particularly  noteworthy  in 
the  ease ;  but  it  went  nuicli  further  than  this.  The  family 
of  the  two  exiled  girls  consisted  of  a  father  aged  about 
seventy,  a  mother  aged  fifty-five  or  sixty,  and  two  younger 
sisters  fifteen  and  sixteen  years  of  age  respectively. 

After  the  banishment  of  Vera  and  the  other  elder  sister 
to  Eastern  Siberia,  all  the  remaining  members  of  the  family 
were  exiled  by  administrative  process  for  a  term  of  three 
years  to  a  village  near  the  sub-arctic  coast  of  the  White  Sea 
in  the  province  of  Archangel.  As  long  as  their  term  of 
banishment  lasted  they  received  a  small  monthly  allowance 
from  the  Government  for  their  maintenance,  and  so  man- 
aged to  exist ;  but  when,  in  1882,  they  were  informed  that 
they  were  at  liberty  to  return  to  Nikolaief,  and  that  their 
allowance  would  no  longer  be  paid  to  them,  they  were  left 
without  any  means  of  support  in  the  place  where  they 
were,  and  had  no  money  with  which  to  get  back  to  their 
home.  They  wrote  a  piteous  letter  to  Vera  in  Minusinsk, 
describing  their  sufferings  and  their  almost  helpless  situa- 
tion, and  Vera,  upon  receipt  of  it,  determined  to  make  her 
escape,  return  to  European  Russia,  and  there,  under  an 
assumed  name,  earn  money  enough,  if  possible,  to  bring 
her  aged  parents  and  her  two  younger  sisters  back  to  their 
home  in  Nikolaief.  Her  attempt  to  escape  was  successful, 
she  reached  European  Russia  in  safety,  and  began,  in  the 
city  of  Kiev,  her  search  for  employment.  Failing  to  get 
anything  to  do,  she  used  up,  little  by  little,  the  small  sum 
of  money  that  she  had  brought  with  her  from  Siberia,  and 
at  last,  to  escape  starvation,  she  was  forced,  in  despair,  to 
give  herself  up  to  the  police.     She  lay  for  some  months  in 

1  Vera  was  first  banished  in  1878  to  tried  by  court-martial  in  Odessa  and 

the  village  of  Veliki  iJstia  in  the  Euro-  sentenced   to  forced   colonization   in 

peanprovinceof  Vologda.  When,  about  Kirensk,  Vera  was  rearrested  and  ex- 

a  year  later,  her  sister,  with  twenty-  iled  to  Minusinsk. 
seven   other  political    offenders,   was 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS  261 

prison,  while  the  authorities  were  investigating  her  story, 
and  was  then  sent  back  to  Minusinsk.  In  the  meantime 
her  aged  father  and  motlier  had  succeeded  in  obtaining 
from  friends  money  enough  to  get  as  far  south  as  Moscow, 
and  when  the  unfortunate  daughter  passed  through  that 
city  on  her  way  to  Eastern  Siberia,  her  parents  and  sisters, 
whom  she  had  hoped  to  help,  came  to  see  her  in  prison  and 
were  permitted  to  have  a  brief  interview  with  her.  Vera 
subsequently  married,  in  Minusinsk,  the  talented  young 
author,  publicist,  and  political  exile,  Ivan  Petrovich  Belo- 
konski,  and  lived  there  with  him  until  the  termination  of 
her  period  of  banishment.  She  then  returned  to  European 
Russia  in  order  that  she  might  help  take  care  of  her  aged 
father,  who  had  gone  insane,  and  her  feeble  and  almost 
heart-broken  mother.  At  the  time  when  we  left  Siberia, 
she,  herself,  was  living  with  her  parents  in  the  city  of 
Kiev,  her  exiled  husband  was  more  than  three  thousand 
miles  away  in  Minusinsk,  and  her  exiled  sister  was  more 
than  four  thousand  miles  away  on  the  head-waters  of  the 
river  Lena. 

To  one  who  lives  in  a  country  where  personal  rights  are 
secured  by  all  sorts  of  legal  and  constitutional  guarantees, 
it  may  seem,  perhaps,  that  nothing  could  be  more  unjust 
and  tyi'annical  than  the  banishment  of  an  infirm  father,  an 
aged  mother,  and  two  helpless  children,  merely  because  cer- 
tain other  members  of  the  family  had  become  disloyal ;  but 
in  the  history  of  administrative  exile  in  Russia  there  are 
things  even  more  extraordinary  and  unreasonable  than  this. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  Russo-Turkish  war  of  1877-1878, 
when  the  conspicuous  gallantry  of  General  Skobelef  had 
attracted  to  him  the  attention  of  the  world,  and  had  made 
him  the  idol  of  enthusiastic  young  men  throughout  Russia, 
a  large  number  of  students  in  the  university  of  Kiev  under- 
took to  give  formal  expression  to  their  feeling  of  admira- 
tion for  the  great  popular  hero  by  getting  up  an  address  to 
him.     There  happened,  at  that  time,  to  be  more  or  less 


2&2  SIBERIA 

political  oxcitement  among  a  certain  class  of  the  Kiev  uni- 
versity students,  and  the  meetings  that  were  held  for  the 
purpose  of  drafting  and  discussing  the  proposed  address  to 
Skobolef  were  thought  by  the  Government  to  have  in  view 
aiuUlier  and  a  more  dangerous  end.  They  were  soon  pro- 
liiltited,  therefore,  by  the  authorities,  and  several  of  the 
students  who  had  taken  a  prominent  part  in  them  were 
arrested  on  suspicion,  held  for  a  time  in  prison,  and  then 
sent  by  administrative  process  to  the  northern  province  of 
Vologda.  Among  the  students  thus  exiled  was  Ivan  N , 


the  son  of  a  wealthy  landed  proprietor  in  Kherson.  When 
the  young  man  had  spent  three  or  four  months  in  the 
northern  village  to  which  he  had  been  banished,  his  father, 
by  means  of  a  liberal  expenditure  of  money,  succeeded  in 
getting  him  transferred  to  the  province  of  Kherson,  where 
the  climate  is  milder  than  in  Vologda,  and  where  the  young 
exile  was  nearer  his  home.  He  was  still  kept,  however, 
under  police  surveillance,  and  was  regarded  by  the  authori- 
ties as  "  politically  untrustworthy."  In  April,  1879,  Greneral 
Todleben  was  appointed  governor-general  of  Odessa,  with 
unlimited  discretionary  power,  and  as  soon  as  he  reached 
his  post  he  proceeded  to  extirpate  "  sedition  "  in  the  prov- 
inces under  his  jurisdiction  by  banishing  to  Siberia,  with- 
out trial  or  hearing,  every  man,  woman,  or  child  who  was 
registered  as  a  suspect  in  the  books  of  the  secret  police,  or 
who  happened  at  that  time  to  be  under  police  surveillance. 
Among  such  persons  was  the  unfortunate  Kiev  student 

Ivan  N .     His  transfer  from  the  province  of  Vologda 

to  the  province  of  Kherson  had  brought  him  within  the 
limits  of  the  territory  subject  to  the  authority  of  Governor- 
general  Todleben,  and  had  thus  rendered  his  situation  worse 
instead  of  better.  It  was  of  no  use  for  him  to  plead  that 
the  Government,  in  consenting  to  his  transfer  from  a  north- 
ern to  a  southern  province,  had  intended  to  show  him 
mercy,  and  that  to  send  him  to  Siberia  would  be  to  punish 
him  a  second  time,  and  with  redoubled  severity,  for  an 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS  263 

action  that  was  wholly  innocent  in  the  first  place,  and  that 
ought  not  to  have  been  punished  at  all.  The  chinovniks 
in  the  office  of  the  governor-general  had  no  time  to  investi- 
gate or  to  make  discriminations.  The  orders  were  to  banish 
to  Siberia  all  persons  then  under  police  surveillance ;  and 
if  they  should  once  begin  to  inquire,  and  investigate,  and 
grant  hearings,  they  would  never  get  anybody  banished  at 
all.  If  he  felt  aggrieved  he  could  send  a  petition  to  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior  from  Siberia.  All  the  young  man's 
efforts  to  get  his  case  reconsidered  on  its  merits  were  fruit- 
less, and  in  the  summer  of  1879  he  was  sent  to  Eastern 
Siberia  by  administrative  process.  In  the  prison  of  Kras- 
noyarsk, where  the  exile  party  to  which  he  belonged  was  de- 
tained for  a  few  days,  a  misunderstanding  of  some  sort  arose 
between  the  prison  officials  and  the  politicals,  in  the  course 
of  which  the  latter  became  insubordinate  and  tui'bulent. 
The  inspector  of  exile  transportation  came  to  the  prison  in 
a  state  of  semi-intoxication  to  quiet  the  disturbance,  and 
while  he  was  haranguing  and  threatening  the  politicals, 
one  of  them  exclaimed  ironically,  "  Yazhno ! "  which  may  be 
rendered  in  English,  "  How  important  we  are ! "  The  inspec- 
tor was  beside  himself  with  fury,  and,  not  being  able  to 
find  out  who  had  uttered  the  offensive  exclamation,  he 
caused  all  the  prisoners  in  that  Mmera  to  be  sent  to  the 
sub-arctic  territory  of  Yakutsk.  The  young  student  from 
Kiev  was  not  a  political  and  had  taken  no  active  part  in 
the  disorder,  but  he  happened  to  be  in  the  cell  from  which 
the  ironical  cry,  "  Vazhno  !  "  came,  and  that  circumstance 
alone  was  sufficient  to  send  him  to  the  arctic  regions.  In 
the  next  five  years  of  enforced  solitude  he  had  ample  time 
to  reflect  upon  the  danger  of  falling  under  suspicion  in  a 
country  where  the  will  of  a  cJihwvnik  is  the  law  of  the 
land,  and  where  patriotic  admiration  for  a  great  general 
may  be  punished  as  severely  as  an  assault  with  intent  to 
kill.  The  Persian  poet  Saadi,  who  evidently  saw  practised 
at  Bagdad  in  the  twelfth  century  the  same  governmental 


0(34  SIBERIA 

methods  that  prevail  in  Russia  now,  tells  a  story  in  tlie 
"Gulistau"  of  a  terror-stricken  fox  who  was  seen  limping  and 
running-  away,  and  who,  upon  being  asked  what  he  was 
afraid  of,  replied,  "  I  hear  they  are  going  to  press  a  camel 
into  the  service." 

''  Well,  what  of  it?  "said  the  interrogator;  "what  relation- 
shi}^  is  there  between  that  animal  and  you  ?  " 

''  Be  silent ! "  rejoined  the  fox.  "  If  the  malignant,  out 
of  evil  design,  should  say,  '  This  is  a  camel, '  who  would 
be  so  solicitous  for  my  relief  as  to  order  an  inquiry 
into  my  case!  and  'before  the  antidote  can  be  brought 
from  Irak  he  who  has  been  bitten  by  the  serpent  may 
be  dead.' " 

In  the  year  1879  there  was  living  in  the  Russian  city  of 
Pultava  a  poor  apothecary  named  Schiller,  who  desired  for 
some  reason  to  change  the  location  of  his  place  of  business. 
As  druggists  in  Russia  are  not  allowed  to  migrate  from  one 
town  to  another  without  the  permission  of  the  Government, 
Schiller  wrote  to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  stating  his 
desire  to  move  and  the  reasons  for  it,  and  asking  that  he 
be  authorized  to  close  his  shop  in  Pultava  and  open  another 
in  Kharkof.  Week  after  week  passed  without  bringing 
any  answer  to  his  request.  At  last,  the  Minister  of  the  In- 
terior happened  to  stop  in  Pultava  for  a  day  or  two  on  one 
of  his  journeys  from  St.  Petersburg  to  the  Crimea,  and 
Schiller,  regarding  this  as  a  providential  opportunity,  at- 
tempted to  get  an  interview  with  him  for  the  purpose  of 
presenting  his  petition  in  person.  Of  course  the  guard  at 
the  door  of  the  house  occupied  by  the  Minister  refused  to 
admit  a  poor  apothecary  with  a  paper,  and  Schiller,  indig- 
nant at  what  he  thought  was  an  injustice,  wrapped  his 
petition  around  a  stone,  to  give  it  weight,  and  threw  it  into 
the  window  of  the  Minister's  room.  He  was  at  once  arrested 
and  imprisoned,  and  a  few  months  later,  upon  the  charge 
of  having  behaved  in  a  disorderly  manner  and  shown  gross 
disrespect  to  the  higher  authorities,  he  was  banished  by 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTKATIVE   PKOCESS  265 

administrative  process,  as  a  political  offender,  to  the  village 
of  Varnavin  in  the  province  of  Kostroma.  This  was  not 
regarded  by  the  authorities  as  a  particularly  severe  punish- 
ment ;  but  Schiller,  finding  enforced  residence  in  an  unfa- 
miliar village  to  be  irksome  and  tedious,  and  having  no 
further  confidence  in  petitions,  changed  his  location  between 
sunset  and  dawn  without  asking  leave  of  anybody  —  in 
other  words,  ran  away.  About  this  time  the  Tsar  issued  a 
poveleinie^  or  command,  directing  that  all  administrative 
exiles  found  absent  from  their  places  of  banishment  without 
leave  should  be  sent  to  the  East-Siberian  province  of 
Yakutsk.^  When,  therefore,  a  few  months  later,  Schiller 
was  rearrested  in  a  part  of  the  empire  where  he  had  no  right 
to  be,  he  was  sent  by  etape  to  Irkutsk,  and  the  governor- 
general  of  Eastern  Siberia  was  requested  to  put  him  under 
police  surveillance  in  some  part  of  the  territory  named  in 
the  Imperial  command.  Governor-general  Aniichin,  who 
had  then  recently  come  to  Irkutsk,  and  who  had  not 
had  time,  apparently,  to  famiharize  himself  with  the  vast 
region  intrusted  to  his  care,-  directed  that  Schiller  be  sent 
to  the  district  town  of  Zashiversk,  which  was  supposed  to 
be  situated  on  the  river  Indigirka,  a  few  miles  south  of  the 
arctic  circle.     A  ^entury  or  a  century  and  a  half  ago,  this 

1  This  Imperial  command  was  issued  basis  of  fact  or  not.  In  the  latter  part 
on  the  2d  of  April,  1880,  and  was  in-  of  the  year  1880,  a  political  named 
tended  to  discourage  attempts  on  the  Peter  Mikhailovich  Volokhof  —  an  ae- 
part  of  political  exiles  to  escape.  In  quaintance  of  the  Russian  novelist 
the  hands  of  local  police  officials  it  was  Korolenko  —  was  banished  to  the  prov- 
soon  made  an  instrument  for  the  punish-  ince  of  Yakutsk  for  an  alleged  attempt 
ment  of  politicals  who  incurred  their  to  escape  from  Archangel.  As  a  mat- 
hostility.  The  first  time,  for  example,  ter  of  fact  he  had  never  even  been  in 
that  an  obnoxious  exile  went  two  hun-  Archdngel,  much  less  attempted  to  es- 
dred  yards  beyond  the  limits  of  the  cape  from  there. 

village  — perhaps  only  into  a  neigh-  2  Eastern  Siberia  has  an  area  con- 
boring  forest  to  gather  flowers  or  ber-  siderably  greater  than  that  of  the 
ries  —  he  was  aiTCsted  upon  the  charge  United  States  and  Alaska  taken  to- 
of  attempting  to  escape  and  immedi-  gether,  and  most  of  the  vast  territory 
ately  banished  to  the  province  of  Ya-  of  Yakutsk  is  as  wild  and  unsettled 
kiitsk— the  wildest  part  of  northeast-  as  the  northern  part  of  British  North 
ern  Asia.  It  made  little  difference  America, 
whether  the  charge  rested   upon   any 


•2«i()  SIBERIA 

town  oli  Zasliiversk  was  a  place  of  considerable  local  im- 
portance ;  but,  for  some  reason,  it  lost  its  preeminence  as  a 
fur-trading  center,  fell  gradually  into  decay,  and  finally 
ceased  to  exist.  Its  location  was  still  marked  with  two 
concentric  circles  on  all  the  maps,'  its  name  continued  to 
appear  annually  in  the  records  of  the  governor-general's 
office,  nnd  I  have  no  doubt  that  a  coterie  of  chinoviiiks  in 
Irkutsk  were  dividing  and  pocketing  every  year  the  money 
appropriated  for  repairs  to  its  public  buildings;  but,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  it  had  not  contained  a  building  nor  an  in- 
habitant for  more  than  half  a  century,  and  forest  trees  were 
growing  on  the  mound  that  marked  the  site  of  its  ostrogi- 
Poor  Schiller,  after  having  been  carried  three  or  four  thou- 
sand miles  up  and  down  the  rivers  Lena  and  Indigirka  in  a 
vain  search  for  a  non-existent  arctic  town,  was  finally 
brought  back  to  Yaktitsk ;  and  a  report  was  made  to  the 
governor-general  that  Zashlversk,  apparently,  had  ceased 
to  exist.  The  governor-general  thereupon  ordered  that  the 
prisoner  be  taken  to  Sredni  Kolimsk,  another  "  town  "  of 
forty-five  houses,  situated  on  the  river  Kolyma  north  of 
the  arctic  circle,  3700  miles  from  Irkutsk  and  7500  miles 
from  the  capital  of  the  empire.  When,  after  more  than  a 
year  of  etape  life,  the  unfortunate  druggist  from  Pultava 
reached  the  last  outpost  of  Russian  power  in  northeastern 
Asia  and  was  set  at  liberty,  he  made  his  way  to  the  little 
log  church,  entered  the  belfry,  and  proceeded  to  jangle  the 
church  bells  in  a  sort  of  wild,  erratic  chime.     When  the 

1  It  is  shown  as  a  district  town  on  an  of  the  present  century.     Seventy-five 

oflRcial  map  of  the  Russian  general  staff  or  eighty  years  later,  however,  Gov- 

published  as  late  as  1883.  ernor-geueral  Fredericks  is  said  to  have 

-  The  site  of  Zashiversk  is  about  3200  sent  there  a  drunken  and  incorrigible 

miles  by  the  usually  traveled  route  from  exile  named  Tsigankof,  who  had  been 

Irkutsk  and  about  7000  miles  from  St.  banished  to  Siberia  for  impertinence  to 

Petersburg.      Exiles   have   been   sent  a  gendarme  officer  in  a  St,  Petersburg 

there   more   than   once.      A  political  restaurant.     [See  newspaper   Volshski 

named  Pik  very  nearly  starved  to  death  Vestnik,  Kazan, September  23, 1885,  and 

there   in   the   reign   of  Catherine   II.,  newspaper  Vostoc1moeObozrenie,St.'Pe- 

from  which  I  infer  that  the  town  was  tersburg,  April  24,  1886,  p.  9.] 
virtually  extinct  before  the  beginning 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTKATIVE   PKOCESS  267 

people  of  the  town  ran  to  the  belfry  in  alarm  and  inquired 
what  was  the  matter,  Schiller  replied  with  dignity  that  he 
wished  the  whole  population  to  know  that  by  the  grace  of 
God,  Herman  Augustovich  Schiller,  after  long  and  perilous 
wanderings,  had  reached  in  safety  the  town  of  Sredni  Kol- 
imsk.  Whether  the  mind  of  the  exile  had  given  way  under 
the  prolonged  strain  of  hardship  and  suffering,  or  whether, 
as  some  assert,  he  had  become  intoxicated  and  rang  the 
chui'ch  bells  merely  as  a  drunken  freak,  I  do  not  know; 
but  the  local  police  reported  to  the  governor-general  that 
the  "  political "  exile  Schiller  was  disorderly  and  turbulent, 
and  that  he  had  caused  a  public  scandal  before  he  had  been 
in  Sredni  Kolimsk  twenty-four  hours.  Upon  this  report 
the  governor-general  indorsed  an  order  to  remove  the  offen- 
der to  some  place  at  least  twelve  versts  distant  from  the 
town.  His  idea  probably  was  to  have  Schiller  sent  to  some 
small  suburban  \411age  in  the  general  neighborhood  of 
Sredni  Kolimsk,  but  far  enough  away  so  that  he  could  not 
easily  get  into  the  town  to  make  a  disturbance.  Unfortu- 
nately there  was  no  suburban  village  within  a  hundred 
versts  in  any  direction,  and  the  local  authorities,  not  know- 
ing what  else  to  do,  carried  the  wretched  druggist  about 
twelve  versts  out  into  the  primeval  wilderness,  erected  a 
log  cabin  for  him,  and  left  him  there — assuring  him  cheer- 
fully, as  they  bade  him  good-by,  that  "  kakuibud "  [some- 
how or  othfer]  he  would  get  along.  With  a  little  help  occa- 
sionally from  wandering  Chukchi  and  Tongusi  he  did  get 
along,  catching  fish,  gathering  berries,  and  snaring  ptarmi- 
gan for  his  subsistence,  and  living,  for  several  years,  the 
life  of  a  continental  Crusoe.  What  eventually  became  of 
him  I  do  not  know. 

Of  course  cases  of  this  kind  are  exceptional.  The  Rus- 
sian Government  does  not  make  a  practice  of  sending  to 
the  arctic  regions  druggists  who  wish  to  change  their  places 
of  business,  neither  does  it  regularly  banish  to  the  territory 
of  Yakutsk  students  who  express  admii-ation  for  Skobelef. 


l2t)8  SIBERIA 

Novortlieloss,  under  a  system  of  adiniiiistratioii  that  allows 
ail  irresponsible  official  to  punish  at  his  own  discretion, 
sueh  results  are  not  only  possible  but  probable. 

In  tlie  year  1874,  a  young  student  named  Egor  Lazaref 
was  arrested  in  one  of  the  south-eastern  provinces  of  Euro- 
pean Eussia  upon  the  charge  of  carrying  on  a  secret  revo- 
lutionary propaganda.  He  was  taken  to  St.  Petersburg 
and  kei>t  in  solitary  confinement  in  the  House  of  Prelimi- 
nary Detention  and  in  the  fortress  of  Petropavlovsk  for 
about  four  years.  He  was  then  tried  with  one  hundred  and 
ninety-two  other  political  suspects  before  the  Governing 
Senate,  found  to  be  not  guilty,  and  acquitted.^  As  there 
still  existed,  however,  a  possibility  that  he  might  be  guilty 
on  some  future  occasion,  he  was  punished  in  advance  by 
being  sent  as  a  soldier  to  a  regiment  then  engaged  in  active 
service  in  the  Trans-Caucasus.-  One  would  suppose  that  to 
be  arrested  without  cause,  to  be  held  four  years  in  solitary 
confinement,  to  be  declared  innocent  by  the  highest  court 
in  the  empire,  and  then  to  be  punished  with  compulsory 
military  service  in  Asia  Minor  for  an  offense  prophetically 
foreseen,  but  not  yet  committed,  would  make  a  revolution- 
ist, if  not  a  terrorist,  out  of  the  most  peaceable  citizen ;  but 
Mr.  Lazaref,  as  soon  as  he  had  been  released  from  the 
armj^,  quietly  completed  his  education  in  the  university, 
studied  law,  and  began  the  practice  of  his  profession  in  the 
city  of  Saratof  on  the  Volga.  He  had  no  more  trouble  with 
the  Government  until  the  summer  of  1884,  when  a  police 

1  Official  certified  copy  of  the  sen-  dier  after  the  expiration  of  "his  term  of 

fence  in  the  case  of  "  the  193,"  p.  8.  hard  labor  in  the  Omsk  convict  prison. 

-  This   was    a    favorite    method    of  I  cannot  now  recall  any  case  in  which 

Nicholas  for  the  punishment  of  literary  Nicholas  insulted  his  own  courts   by 

men  and  students  whose  opinions  were  punishing     administratively     persons 

too  liberal  for  his  taste.   He  compelled  whom  they  had  just  declared  to  be  in- 

the  gifted  Russian  poet  Shevchenko  to  nocent,  but  such  cases  were  common 

serve  ten  years  as  a  common  soldier,  in  the  reign  of  Alexander  II.     Most  of 

and  kept  him  most  of  that  time  in  the  the  prisoners  acquitted  by  the  Senate 

hottest  and  most  desolate  part  of  Gen-  in  the  trial  of  "  the  193  "  were  immedi- 

tral  Asia  —  the  district  of  Mangishldk.  ately  rearrested  and  banished  by  ad- 

The  talented  novelist  Dostoyefski  was  ministrative  process,  or  sent  as  common 

also  forced  to  sei've  as  a  common  sol-  soldiers  into  the  ranks. 


EXILE   BY  ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS  269 

officer  suddenly  appeared  to  him  one  morning  and  said  that 
the  governor  of  the  province  would  like  to  see  him.  Mr. 
Lazaref,  who  was  on  pleasant  personal  terms  with  the 
governor,  went  at  once  to  the  latter's  office,  where  he  was 
coolly  informed  that  he  was  to  be  exiled  by  administrative 
process  to  Eastern  Siberia  for  three  years.  Mr.  Lazaref 
stood  aghast. 

"  May  I  ask  your  high  excellency  for  what  reason  ?  "  he 
finally  inquired. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  the  governor.  "  I  have  received 
orders  to  that  effect  from  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior,  and 
that  is  all  I  know  about  it." 

Through  the  influence  of  friends  in  St.  Petersburg,  Mr. 
Lazaref  obtained  a  respite  of  two  weeks  in  which  to  settle 
up  his  affairs,  and  he  was  then  sent  as  a  prisoner  to  Moscow. 
He  reached  that  city  after  the  last  party  of  political  exiles 
had  been  despatched  for  the  season,  and  had  to  live  in  the 
Moscow  forwarding  prison  until  the  next  spring.  While 
there  he  wi-ote  a  respectful  letter  to  the  Department  of 
Imperial  Police,  asking,  as  a  favor,  that  he  might  be  in- 
formed for  what  reason  he  was  to  be  exiled  to  Eastern 
Siberia.  The  reply  that  he  received  was  comprised  in  two 
lines,  and  was  as  follows:  "  You  are  to  be  put  under  police 
surveillance  in  Eastern  Siberia  because  you  have  not  aban- 
doned your  previous  criminal  activity."  In  other  words, 
he  was  to  be  banished  to  the  Trans-Baikal  because  he  had 
not  "abandoned"  the  "previous  criminal  activity  "  of  which 
a  court  of  justice  had  found  him  not  guilty !  In  the  Mos- 
cow forwarding  prison,  soon  after  Mr.  Lazaref 's  arrival,  a 
number  of  the  political  prisoners  were  comparing  experi- 
ences one  day,  and  asking  one  another  for  what  offenses 
they  had  been  condemned  to  banishment.  One  said  that 
forbidden  books  had  been  found  in  his  house;  another 
said  that  he  had  been  accused  of  carrying  on  a  revolutionary 
propaganda ;  and  a  third  admitted  that  he  had  been  a  mem- 
ber of  a  secret  society.     Finally  Mr.  Lazaref's  turn  came. 


•J  70  SIBEKIA 

and  upon  being  asked  why  lie  was  on  his  way  to  Siberia, 
lie  replied  simply,  "  I  don't  know." 

"  Don't  know!"  exelainied  one  of  his  comrades.  "  Did  n't 
your  father  have  a  black-and-white  cow?" 

"Very  likely,"  said  Mr.  Lazaref.   "  He  had  a  lot  of  cows." 

"  Well ! "  rejoined  his  comrade  triumphantly,  "what  more 
would  you  have  ?  That  's  enough  to  exile  twenty  men  — 
and  yet  he  says  he  does  n't  know  !  " 

On  the  10th  of  May,  1885,  Mr.  Lazaref  left  Moscow  with 
an  exile  party  for  Siberia,  and  on  the  10th  of  October,  1885, 
after  twenty-two  weeks  of  travel  "by  etape,''''  reached  the 
town  of  Chita,  in  the  Trans-Baikal,  where  I  had  the  plea- 
sure of  making  his  acquaintance. 

The  grotesque  injustice,  the  heedless  cruelty,  and  the 
preposterous  "  mistakes  "  and  "  misunderstandings  "  that 
make  the  history  of  administrative  exile  in  Russia  seem  to 
an  American  like  the  recital  of  a  wild  nightmare  are  due  to 
the  complete  absence,  in  the  Russian  form  of  government, 
of  checks  upon  the  executive  power,  and  the  almost  equally 
complete  absence  of  official  responsibility  for  unjust  or 
illegal  action.  The  Minister  of  the  Interior,  in  dealing  with 
jjoliticals,  is  almost  wholly  unrestrained  by  law ;  and  as  it  is 
utterly  impossible  for  him  personally  to  examine  all  of  the 
immense  number  of  political  cases  that  come  to  him  for 
final  decision,  he  is  virtually  forced  to  delegate  a  part  of  his 
irresponsible  power  to  chiefs  of  police,  chiefs  of  gendarmes, 
governors  of  provinces,  and  subordinates  in  his  own  minis- 
try. They  in  turn  are  compelled,  for  similar  reasons,  to 
intrust  a  part  of  their  authority  and  discretion  to  officers  of 
still  lower  grade;  and  the  latter,  who  often  are  stupid, 
ignorant,  or  unscrupulous  men,  are  the  persons  who  really 
make  the  investigations,  the  searches,  and  the  examinations 
upon  which  the  life  or  liberty  of  an  accused  citizen  may 
depend.  Theoretically,  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  aided 
by  a  council  composed  of  three  of  his  own  subordinates  and 
two  officers  from   the   Ministry  of  Justice,  reviews   and 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTRATIVE   PROCESS  271 

reexamines  the  cases  of  all  political  offenders  who  are  dealt 
with  by  administrative  process ;  ^  but  practically  he  does 
nothing  of  the  kind,  and  it  is  impossible  that  he  should  do 
anything  of  the  kind  for  the  very  simple  reason  that  he  has 
not  the  time. 

In  the  years  1886  and  1887  there  came  before  the  Depart- 
ment of  Justice  1883  political  cases,  involving  no  less  than 
2972  persons.-  A  very  large  proportion  of  these  cases  were 
dealt  with  by  administrative  process,  and  if  the  Minister  of 
the  Interior  had  given  to  each  one  of  them  a  half,  or  one- 
quarter,  of  the  study  which  was  absolutely  essential  to  a 
clear  comprehension  of  it,  he  would  have  had  no  time  to 
attend  to  anything  else.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  did  not 
give  the  cases  such  study,  but,  as  a  rule,  simply  signed  the 
papers  that  came  up  to  him  from  below.  Of  course  he 
would  not  have  signed  the  order  for  the  exile  of  Mr.  Kor- 
olenko  to  the  province  of  Yakutsk  if  he  had  known  that  the 
whole  charge  against  the  young  novelist  was  based  on  a 
mistake ;  nor  would  he  have  signed  the  order  for  the  exile 
of  Mr.  Borodin  if  he  had  been  aware  that  the  magazine  arti- 
cle for  which  the  author  was  banished  had  been  approved 
by  the  St.  Petersburg  Committee  of  Censorship.  He  ac- 
cepted the  statements  passed  up  to  him  by  a  long  line  of 
subordinate  officials,  and  signed  his  name  merely  as  a  for- 
mality and  as  a  matter  of  course.  How  easy  it  is  in  Russia 
to  get  a  high  official's  signature  to  any  sort  of  a  document 
may  be  illustrated  by  an  anecdote  that  I  have  every  reason 
to  believe  is  absolutely  true.  A  stola-nacJidlnik,  or  head  of 
a  bureau,  in  the  provincial  administration  of  Tobolsk,  while 
boasting  one  day  about  his  power  to  shape  and  direct  gov- 
ernmental action,  made  a  wager  with  another  cJiinovnik 
that  he  could  get  the  governor  of  the  province — the  late 
Governor  Lisogorski  —  to  sign  a  manuscript  copy  of  the 

iSee  "Rules  Relating  to  Measures        2 Report  of  the  Minister  of  Justice 
for  the  Preservation  of  National  Order    for  1886-7. 
and  Public  Tranquillity."  Appendix  D. 


'212  SIBERIA 

Lord's  Prayer.  He  wrote  the  prayer  out  in  the  form  of  an 
oftieial  document  on  a  sheet  of  stamped  paper,  numbered 
it,  attached  tlie  proper  seal  to  it,  and  handed  it  to  the  gov- 
ernor Avith  a  pile  of  other  papers  which  required  signature. 
He  won  his  wager.  The  governor  duly  signed  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  and  it  was  probably  as  harmless  an  official  docu- 
ment as  ever  came  out  of  his  office. 

How  much  of  this  sort  of  careless  and  reckless  signing  there 
was  in  the  cases  of  political  oifenders  dealt  with  by  admin- 
istrative process  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that,  when 
the  liberal  minister  Loris-Melikof  came  into  power  in  1880, 
he  found  it  necessary  to  appoint  a  revisory  commission, 
under  the  presidency  of  General  Cherevin,  to  investigate 
the  cases  of  persons  who  had  been  exiled  and  put  under 
police  supervision  by  administrative  process,  and  to  correct, 
so  far  as  possible,  the  "mistakes,"  "misunderstandings," 
and  "  irregularities"  against  which  the  sufferers  in  all  parts 
of  the  empire  began  to  protest  as  soon  as  the  appointment 
of  a  new  Minister  of  the  Interior  gave  them  some  reason  to 
hope  that  their  complaints  would  be  heeded.  There  were 
said  to  be  at  that  time  2800  political  offenders  in  Siberia 
and  in  various  remote  parts  of  European  Russia  who  had 
been  exiled  and  put  under  police  surveillance  by  adminis- 
trative process.  Up  to  the  23d  of  January,  1881,  General 
Cherevin's  commission  had  examined  the  cases  of  650  such 
persons,  and  had  recommended  that  328,  or  more  than  half 
of  them,  be  immediately  released  and  returned  to  their 
homes.^ 

Of  course  the  only  remedy  for  such  a  state  of  things  as 
this  is  to  take  the  investigation  of  political  offenses  out  of 
the  hands  of  an  irresponsible  police,  put  it  into  the  courts, 
where  it  belongs,  and  allow  the  accused  to  be  defended  there 
by  counsel  of  their  own  selection.  This  remedy,  however, 
the  Government  persistently  refuses  to  adopt.     The  Moscow 

1  An  official  annoiincement  by  the  Grovernment,  quoted  in  the  newspaper 
Sibir  for  Jan.  31,  1881,  p.  1. 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTKATIVE   PROCESS  273 

Assembly  of  Nobles,  at  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  U.  F.  Samarin, 
one  of  its  members,  sent  a  respectful  but  urgent  memorial 
to  the  Crown,  recommending  that  every  political  exile  who 
had  been  dealt  with  by  administrative  process  should  be 
given  the  right  to  demand  a  judicial  investigation  of  his 
case.  The  memorial  went  unheeded,  and  the  Government, 
I  believe,  did  not  even  make  a  reply  to  it.^ 

Before  the  year  1882  the  rights,  privileges,  and  obligations 
of  political  offenders  exiled  to  Siberia  by  administrative  pro- 
cess were  set  forth  only  in  secret  circular-letters,  sent  from 
time  to  time  by  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  to  the  governors 
of  the  different  Siberian  provinces.  Owing  to  changes  in 
the  ministry,  changes  in  circumstances,  and  changes  of 
ministerial  policy,  these  circular-letters  of  instruction  ulti- 
mately became  so  contradictory,  or  so  inconsistent  one 
with  another,  and  led  to  so  many  "  misunderstandings," 
"  irregularities,"  and  collisions  between  the  exiles  and  the 
local  authorities  in  the  Siberian  towns  and  villages,  that 
on  the  12th  of  March,  188^  the  Minister  of  the  Interior 
drew  up,  and  the  Tsar  approved,  a  set  of  rules  for  the 
better  regulation  of  police  surveillance  and  administrative 
exile.  An  official  copy  of  this  paper,  which  I  brought 
back  with  me  from  Siberia,  lies  before  me  as  I  write.  It  is 
entitled :  "  Rules  Relating  to  Police  Surveillance  "  [Poloz- 
henie  o  Politseiskom  Nadzore].-  The  first  thing  that  strikes 
the  reader  in  a  perusal  of  this  document  is  the  fact  that  it 
declares  exile  and  police  surveillance  to  be,  not  jninisJiments 
for  crimes  already  committed,  but  measures  of  precaution 
to  prevent  the  commission  of  crimes  that  evil-minded  men 
may  contemplate.  The  first  section  reads  as  follows :  "Po- 
lice surveillance  [which  includes  administrative  exile]  is  a 
means  of  jDreventing  crimes  against  the  existing  imperial 
order  [the  present  form  of  government]  ;  and  it  is  applic- 
able to  all  persons  who  are  prejudicial  to  public  tranquillity." 

1  Newspaper  Zemsfvo,  1881,  No.  10,         -  For  a  translation  of  these  "Eules" 
P-  21.  see  appendix  D. 

18 


274  SIBEIUA 

Tlie  power  to  decide  when  a  man  is  "  prejudicial  to  public 
tranquillity,"  and  when  exile  and  surveillance  shall  be  re- 
sortetl  to  as  a  means  of  "  preventing  crime,"  is  vested  in  the 
govi'rnors-geueral,  the  governors,  and  the  police ;  and  in 
the  exercise  of  that  power  they  pay  quite  as  much  attention 
to  the  oi^inions  that  a  man  holds  as  to  the  acts  that  he  com- 
mits. They  can  hardly  do  otherwise.  If  they  should  wait 
in  all  cases  for  the  commission  of  criminal  acts,  they  would 
not  be  ^^  preventing  crime,"  but  merely  watching  and  waiting 
for  it,  while  the  object  of  administrative  exile  is  to  irrevent 
crime  by  anticipation.  Clearly,  then,  the  only  thing  to  be 
done  is  to  nip  crime  in  the  bud  by  putting  under  restraint, 
or  sending  to  Siberia,  every  man  whose  political  opinions 
are  such  as  to  raise  a  presumption  that  he  will  commit  a 
crime  "  against  the  existing  imperial  order "  if  he  sees  a 
favorable  opportunity  for  so  doing.  Administrative  exile, 
therefore,  is  directed  against  ideas  and  opinions  from  which 
criminal  acts  may  come,  rather  than  against  the  criminal 
ac^s  themselves.  It  is  designed  to  anticipate  and  prevent 
the  acts  by  suppressing  or  discouraging  the  opinions  ;  and, 
such  being  the  case,  the  document  which  lies  before  me 
should  be  called,  not  "  Rules  Relating  to  Police  Surveil- 
lance," but  "Rules  for  the  Better  Regulation  of  Private 
Opinion."^  In  the  spirit  of  this  latter  title,  the  "Rules"  are 
interpreted  by  most  of  the  Russian  police. 

The  pretense  that  administrative  exile  is  not  a  punish- 
ment, but  only  a  precaution,  is  a  mere  juggle  with  words. 
The  Government  says,  "We  do  not  exile  a  man  and  put 
him  under  police  surveillance  as  a  punishment  for  holding 
certain  opinions,  but  only  as  a  means  of  preventing  him 
from  giving  such  opinions  outward  expression  in  criminal 

1  This  is  the  view  of  the  "  Rules "  cipal    newspapers   of    the    empire    to 

taken  by  the  most  competent  Russian  show  the  view  generally  taken  of  the 

authorities.      In   the    Annals    of    the  "Rules,"   and   some   interesting   and 

faf/icrZanrZ  for  May,  1882,  will  be  found  pertinent  remarks  by  Professor  Kis- 

avery  full  discussion  of  administrative  tiakofski  upon   "punishment  on  sus- 

exile,  with  quotations  from  the  prin-  picion." 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTKATIVE   PROCESS  275 

acts."  If  the  banishment  of  a  man  to  the  province  of 
Yakutsk  for  five  years  is  not  a  "punishment,"  then  the 
word  "  punishment "  must  have  in  Russian  jurisprudence  a 
very  pecuHar  and  restricted  signification.  In  the  case  of 
women  and  young  girls  a  sentence  of  banishment  to  Eastern 
Siberia  is  ahnost  equivalent  to  a  sentence  of  death,  on 
account  of  the  terrible  hardships  of  the  journey  and  the 
bad  sanitary  condition  of  the  etapes  —  and  yet  the  Govern- 
ment says  that  exile  by  administrative  process  is  not  a 
punishment ! 

In  1884  a  pretty  and  intelligent  young  girl  named  Sophia 
Nikitina,  who  was  attending  school  in  Kiev,  was  banished 
by  administrative  process  to  one  of  the  remote  provinces 
of  Eastern  Siberia.  In  the  winter  of  1884-85,  when  she  had 
accomplished  about  3000  miles  of  her  terrible  journey,  she 
was  taken  sick,  on  the  road  between  Tomsk  and  Achinsk, 
with  typhus  fever,  contracted  in  one  of  the  pestilential 
etapes.  Physicians  are  not  sent  with  exile  parties  in  Siberia, 
and  politicals  who  happen  to  be  taken  sick  on  the  road  are 
carried  forward,  regardless  of  their  condition  and  regardless 
of  the  weather,  until  the  party  comes  to  a  lazaret,  or  prison 
hospital.  There  are  only  four  such  lazarets  between  Tomsk 
and  Irkutsk,  a  distance  of  about  a  thousand  miles,  and  con- 
sequently sick  prisoners  are  sometimes  carried  in  sleighs  or 
telegas,  at  a  snail's  pace,  for  a  week  or  two  —  if  they  do  not 
die — before  they  finally  obtain  rest,  a  bed,  and  a  physician. 
How  many  days  of  cold  and  misery  Miss  Nikitina  endured 
on  the  road  that  winter  after  she  was  taken  sick,  and  be- 
fore she  reached  Achinsk  and  received  medical  treatment, 
I  do  not  know ;  but  in  the  Achinsk  lazaret  her  brief  life 
ended.  It  must  have  been  a  satisfaction  to  her,  as  she  lay 
dying  in  a  foul  prison  hospital,  3000  miles  from  her  home, 
to  think  that  she  was  not  undergoing  "punishment"  for 
anything  that  she  had  done,  but  was  merely  being  subjected 
to  necessary  restraint  by  a  parental  Government,  in  order 
that  she  might  not  sometime  be  tempted  to  do  something 


L'7t)  SIBERIA 

that  WiUiUl  liave  a  tendency  to  raise  a  presumption  that  her 
presence  in  Kiev  was  about  to  become  more  or  less  "  pre- 
judicial to  public  tranquillity." 

I  have  not  space  for  a  quarter  of  the  evidence  that  I  col- 
Kn'tcil  ill  Siberia  to  show  that  administrative  exile  is  not 
only  cruelly  unjust,  but,  in  hundreds  of  cases,  is  a  punish- 
ment of  barbarous  severity.  If  it  attained  the  objects  that 
it  is  supposed  to  attain,  there  might,  from  the  point  of  view 
of  a  despotic  Government,  be  some  excuse  if  not  justifica- 
tion for  it ;  but  it  does  not  attain  such  objects.  Regarded 
even  from  the  side  of  expediency,  it  is  uselessly  and  need- 
lessly cruel.  In  a  recent  official  report  to  the  Minister  of 
the  Interior,  Major-General  Nicolai  Baranof,  the  governor 
of  the  province  of  Archangel,  in  discussing  the  subject  of 
administrative  exile  saj^s : 

From  the  experience  of  previous  years,  and  from  my  own  per- 
sonal observation,  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  administra- 
tive exile  for  political  reasons  is  much  more  likely  to  spoil  the 
character  of  a  man  than  to  reform  it.  The  transition  from  a  life 
of  comfort  to  a  life  of  poverty,  from  a  social  life  to  a  life  in  which 
there  is  no  society  whatever,  and  from  a  hfe  of  activity  to  a  life  of 
compulsory  inaction,  produces  such  ruinous  consequences,  that,  not 
infrequently,  especially  of  late,  we  find  the  political  exiles  going 
insane,  attempting  to  commit  suicide,  and  even  committing  suicide. 
All  this  is  the  direct  result  of  the  abnormal  conditions  under  which 
exile  compels  an  intellectually  cultivated  person  to  live.  There 
has  not  yet  been  a  single  case  where  a  man,  suspected  with  good 
reason  of  political  untrustworthiness  and  exiled  by  administrative 
process,  has  returned  from  such  banishment  reconciled  to  the 
Government,  convinced  of  his  error,  and  changed  into  a  useful 
member  of  society  and  a  faithful  servant  of  the  Throne.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  often  happens  that  a  man  who  has  been  exiled  in 
consequence  of  a  misunderstanding,  or  an  administrative  mistake, 
becomes  politically  untrustworthy  for  the  first  time  in  the  place  to 
which  he  has  been  banished  —  partly  by  reason  of  his  association 
there  with  real  enemies  of  the  Government,  and  partly  as  a  result 
of  personal  exasperation.  Furthermore,  if  a  man  is  infected  with 
anti-Government  ideas,  all  the  circumstances  of  exile  tend  only 


EXILE   BY   ADMINISTKATIVE   PROCESS  277 

to  increase  the  infection,  to  sharpen  his  faculties,  and  to  change 
him  from  a  theoretical  to  a  practical  —  that  is,  an  extremely  dan- 
gerous—  man.  If,  on  the  contrary,  he  has  not  been  guilty  of 
taking  part  in  a  revolutionary  movement,  exile,  by  force  of  the 
same  circumstances,  develops  in  his  mind  the  idea  of  revolution, 
or,  in  other  words,  produces  a  result  directly  opposite  to  that 
which  it  was  intended  to  produce.  No  matter  how  exile  by  admin- 
istrative process  may  be  regulated  and  restricted,  it  will  always 
suggest  to  the  mind  of  the  exiled  person  the  idea  of  uncontrolled 
official  license,  and  this  alone  is  sufficient  to  prevent  any  reforma- 
tion whatever.  1 

Truer  words  than  these  were  never  written  by  a  high 
Russian  official,  and  so  far  as  the  practical  expediency  of 
exile  by  administrative  process  is  concerned,  I  should  be 
content  to  rest  the  ease  against  it  upon  this  frank  report  of 
the  governor  of  Archangel.  The  subject,  however,  may  be 
regarded  from  a  point  of  view  other  than  that  of  expe- 
diency—  namely,  from  the  point  of  view  of  morals,  justice, 
and  humanity.  That  side  of  the  question  I  shall  reserve 
for  further  discussion  in  later  chapters. 

1  Juridical  Messenger  (the  journalistic  organ  of  the  Moscow  Juridical  Society, 
or  Bar  Association),  October,  1883,  p.  332. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE   PROVINCE   AND    THE    CITY    OF    TOMSK 

ri'lIIE  rapidity  with  which  the  season  of  good  weather 
JL  and  good  roads  was  passing,  and  the  length  and  ardu- 
ous nature  of  the  journey  that  still  lay  before  us,  compelled 
us  to  make  our  stay  in  the  city  of  Ust  Kamenogorsk  very 
brief.  The  work  that  we  accomplished  there,  however,  had 
an  important  bearing  upon  the  prosecution  of  our  re- 
searches in  the  field  of  political  exile,  and  rendered  our 
success  in  that  field  almost  certain.  I  had  always  antici- 
pated great  difficulty  in  ascertaining  where  political  exiles 
were  to  be  found,  and  how  they  could  be  approached  with- 
out the  asking,  of  too  many  dangerous  questions.  We 
could  not  expect  in  every  town  to  stumble,  by  good  luck, 
upon  a  liberal  and  sympathetic  official  who  would  aid  us  in 
our  search,  and  yet  experience  had  shown  us  the  absolute 
necessity  of  knowing  definitely  in  advance  where  to  go  and 
whom  to  approach.  We  had  already  passed  through  half 
a  dozen  towns  or  villages  where  there  were  colonies  of  in- 
teresting political  exiles,  and  where,  if  we  had  been  aware 
of  their  existence,  we  should  have  stopj^ed  ;  but  we  had  no 
clues  whatever  to  them,  and  I  feared  that  if,  in  searching 
for  clues,  we  made  a  practice  of  asking  questions  at  random, 
we  should  soon  attract  the  attention  of  the  police  and  be 
called  upon  to  explain  what  business  we  had  with  political 
exiles,  and  why  we  were  everywhere  looking  them  up.  At 
Ust  Kamenogorsk  this  source  of  embarrassment  was  fi- 
nally removed.    We  not  only  obtained  there  a  mass  of  use- 


THE   PROVINCE   AND   THE   CITY   OF   TOMSK  279 

ful  information  and  a  great  number  of  valuable  hints  and 
suggestions,  but  we  carried  away  with  us  notes  of  recom- 
mendation to  people  who  could  aid  us,  letters  of  introduc- 
tion to  liberal  officials  in  the  towns  through  which  we  were 
yet  to  pass,  and  a  manuscript  list,  or  directory,  in  which 
were  set  forth  the  names,  ages,  professions,  and  places  of 
banishment  of  nearly  seven  hundred  political  exiles  in  all 
parts  of  Siberia.  After  we  had  obtained  these  letters  of 
introduction  and  this  "  underground  "  directory,  the  GTov- 
ernment  could  have  prevented  us  from  investigating  the 
exile  system  only  by  removing  us  forcibly  from  the  coun- 
try. We  no  longer  had  to  grope  our  way  by  asking  haz- 
ardous questions  at  random.  We  could  take  every  step 
with  a  certainty  of  not  making  a  mistake,  and  could  go, 
in  every  \allage,  directly  to  the  persons  whom  we  wished 
to  see. 

On  Monday,  August  10th,  we  dined  for  the  last  time  with 
the  politicals  in  Ust  Kamenogorsk,  sang  to  them  once  more, 
by  special  request,  "  John  Brown's  Body  "  and  "  The  Star- 
spangled  Banner,"  and  at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  set  out 
by  post  for  Barnaul  and  Tomsk.  The  road,  as  far  as  the 
post-station  of  Pianoyarofskaya,  was  the  same  that  we  had 
followed  in  going  from  Semipalatinsk  to  the  Altai  Station. 
The  country  that  it  intersected  seemed  to  us  more  parched 
and  barren  than  ever,  but  here  and  there,  in  the  moister 
places,  we  passed  large  flocks  of  fat-tailed  sheep,  guarded 
and  watched  by  Kirghis  horsemen,  whose  hooded  heads 
and  black  faces,  with  the  immense  goggles  of  horsehair 
netting  that  they  wore  to  protect  their  eyes  from  the  glare 
of  the  sun,  gave  them  an  almost  demoniacal  appearance. 
Occasionally,  in  the  outskirts  of  the  villages,  we  saw  fields 
of  cultivated  sunflowers,  or  of  half-ripe  watermelons  and 
cantaloups ;  but  as  a  rule  the  steppe  was  uncultivated 
and  could  not  be  cultiv^ated  without  artificial  irrigation. 
The  weather  was  still  very  warm,  and  in  almost  every  vil- 
lage we  noticed  naked  children  playing  in  the  streets. 


280 


SIBERIA 


»liiii\i\\Miii^^ 

A    i'OM-bXAllUN    ON    TllK    BAKNAL].    KOAD. 


THE   PROVINCE   AND   THE   CITY   OF   TOMSK  281 

At  Pianoyarofskaya  we  left  the  Semipalatinsk  road  and 
the  valley  of  the  Irtish,  and,  turning  to  the  northward, 
crossed  the  low  divide  which  separates  the  water-shed  of 
the  Irtish  from  that  of  the  Ob,  and  entered  the  province  of 
Tomsk.  A  large  quantity  of  rain  had  fallen,  and  had  been 
followed  by  a  comfortable  temperature;  but  the  muddy 
roads  hindered  us,  and  the  post-stations,  where  we  got 
very  little  to  eat,  were  filthy  and  swarming  with  bedbugs. 
In  the  stations  of  Shemanaiefskaya  and  Saiishkiua,  after 
vainly  attempting  to  sleep,  I  sat  up  and  wrote  throughout 
the  whole  of  two  nights,  killing  fifteen  or  twenty  bedbugs 
each  night  on  my  writing-table.  The  lack  of  proper  food, 
the  constant  jolting,  and  the  impossibility  of  getting  any 
sleep,  soon  reduced  us  to  an  extremely  jaded  and  exhausted 
condition,  and  when  we  reached  the  town  of  Barnaiil,  Fri- 
day afternoon,  August  14,  after  an  almost  sleepless  journey 
of  ninety-six  hours,  I  was  hardly  able  to  sit  up. 

Barnaiil  is  a  large  town  of  17,000  inhabitants,  and  is  the 
center  of  the  rich  and  important  mining  district  of  the  Al- 
tai. It  contains  an  unusual  number  of  pretentious  dwell- 
ing-houses and  residences  with  columns  and  imposing 
facades,  but  most  of  them  have  fallen  into  decay.  They 
were  erected  many  years  ago,  at  a  time  when  a  mining  offi- 
cer of  the  Crown  in  Barnaul  received  2000  or  3000  rubles  a 
year  as  salary,  and  stole  100,000  rubles  a  year  by  means  of 
"cooked"  accounts,  and  when,  according  to  tradition,  he 
paid  twice  the  amount  of  his  own  salary  to  a  French 
governess  for  his  children,  and  as  much  more  to  a  French 
culinary  chef,  and  sent  his  soiled  linen  to  Paris  by  mail  to 
be  washed  and  starched. 

The  mines  of  the  Altai  are,  for  the  most  part,  the  private 
property  of  the  Tsar.  In  the  nine  years  from  1870  to  1879 
they  produced  6984  pounds  of  gold,  206,964  jDOunds  of 
silver,  9,639,620  pounds  of  copper,  and  13,221,396  pounds  of 
lead.  A  large  part  of  the  gold  and  silver  ore  is  smelted  in 
Barnaiil. 


282 


SIBERIA 


MARKET-PLACE    m    BARNAUL. 


Mr.  Frost,  with  an  amount  of  enterprise  which  was  in 
the  highest  degree  creditable  to  him,  explored  the  city  with 
sketch-book  and  camera,  and  took  photographs  of  the  bazar, 


THE   PROVINCE   AND   THE   CITY   OF   TOMSK  283 

of  peasant  womeu  carrying  stones  on  hand-barrows  near 
the  mining  "works,"  and  of  a  curious  building,  not  far 
from  our  hotel,  which  seemed  to  have  been  intended  for  a 
Russo-Ionic  temple,  but  which  afterward  had  apparently 
been  transformed  into  a  jail,  in  order  to  bring  it  more 
nearly  into  harmony  with  the  needs  of  the  place.  I  should 
have  accompanied  him  upon  some  of  these  excursions,  but 
I  was  nearly  sick  from  sleeplessness.  The  dirty  hotel  in 
Barnaiil  was  alive  with  bedbugs,  and  I  was  compelled  to 
sleep  every  night  on  a  table,  or  rather  stand,  about  four 
feet  long  by  three  wide,  set  out  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 
Owing  to  the  fact  that  I  generally  rolled  off  or  capsized  the 
table  as  soon  as  I  lost  consciousness,  my  sleep  was  neither 
prolonged  nor  refreshing,  and  before  we  left  Barnaiil  I  was 
reduced  to  a  state  bordering  on  frenzy.  Almost  the  only 
pleasant  recollection  that  I  have  of  the  city  is  the  memory 
of  receiving  there  eighteen  letters  from  home — the  first  I 
had  had  since  our  departure  from  Tinmen. 

Tuesday  afternoon,  August  18th,  we  left  Barnaiil  for 
Tomsk.  The  part  of  Western  Siberia  that  lies  between  these 
two.  cities  is  a  fertile  rolling  country,  diversified  by  birch 
groves  and  wide  stretches  of  cultivated  land,  and  suggestive 
a  little  of  the  southern  part  of  New  England.  Mr.  Frost, 
whose  home  is  in  Massachusetts,  said  he  could  easily  im- 
agine that  he  was  "  up  Berkshire  way."  The  scenery,  al- 
though never  wild,  is  everywhere  pleasing  and  picturesque ; 
the  meadows,  even  in  August,  are  carpeted  with  flowers, 
and  the  greenness  and  freshness  of  the  vegetation,  to  a 
traveler  who  comes  from  the  desert-like  steppes  of  the  upper 
Irtish,  are  a  source  of  surprise  and  gratification.  Near  the 
first  station  we  passed  the  small  lake  of  Kolivan,  which  is 
celebrated  in  all  that  part  of  Siberia  for  the  picturesque 
beauty  of  its  scenery,  and  Mr.  Frost  made  a  sketch  of  some 
fantastic  rocks  by  the  roadside.  It  is  a  favorite  place  of 
resort  in  summer  for  the  wealthy  citizens  of  Barnaiil  and 
Tomsk.     It  had  been  our  intention  to  spend  a  day  or  two 


284 


SIBEKIA 


in  exploring  this  picturesque  sheet  of  water,  but  we  finally 
decided  that  we  could  not  spare  the  time.  We  crossed  the 
riv(^r  Ob  on  a  curious  par6)n,  or  ferry-boat,  consisting  of  a 
large  platform  snpported  upon  two  open  hulks  and  pro- 


jjelled  ]jy  a  paddle- wlit^ei  at  oiic  c^iid,  liit-  cratik  ul  which 
was  turned  by  two  ragged-bearded  old  /iiiuMks.  Most  of 
the  Siberian  rivers  are  crossed  by  means  of  what  are  known 
as  "pendulum  ferries,"  in  which  the  boat  is  anchored  by  a 
long  cable  made  fast  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and  is 


THE   PROVINCE   AND   THE   CITY   OF   TOMSK  285 

swung  from  shore  to  shore  pendulum-wise  by  the  force  of 
the  current.  The  Ob  ferry-boat,  of  which  Mr.  Frost  made 
a  sketch,  was  the  first  one  we  had  seen  propelled  by  a 
paddle-wheel. 

So  far  as  I  can  remember,  there  was  little  on  the  route 
between  Barnaul  and  Tomsk  to  attract  a  traveler's  atten- 
tion. I  was  terribly  jaded  and  exhausted  from  lack  of 
sleep,  and  spent  a  large  part  of  the  time  in  a  state  which 
was  little  more  than  one  of  semi-consciousness. 

At  four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  Thursday,  August  20th, 
we  rode  at  last  into  the  city  of  Tomsk.  We  had  made,  with 
horses,  in  the  51  days  which  had  elapsed  since  our  depar- 
ture from  Tinmen,  a  journey  of  more  than  1500  miles,  in  the 
course  of  which  we  had  inspected  two  large  prisons,  made 
the  acquaintance  of  three  colonies  of  political  exiles,  and 
visited  the  wildest  part  of  the  Russian  Altai.  We  drove  at 
once  to  the  European  Hotel,  which  is  the  building  shown 
at  the  extreme  right  of  the  illustration  on  page  300,  secured 
a  fairly  comfortable  room,  and  as  soon  as  possible  after 
dinner  removed  our  clothing  and  stretched  our  weary 
bodies  out  in  civilized  beds  for  the  first  time  in  nearly 
two  months. 

Tomsk,  which  is  the  capital  of  the  pro"\dnce  of  the  same 
name,  is  a  city  of  31,000  inhabitants,  and  is  situated  partly 
on  a  bluff,  and  partly  on  low  land  adjoining  the  river  Tom, 
a  short  distance  above  its  junction  with  the  Ob.  In  point 
of  size  and  importance  it  is  the  second  city  in  Siberia,  and 
in  enterprise,  intelligence,  and  prosperity  it  seemed  to  me 
to  be  the  first.  It  contains  about  8000  dwelling-houses  and 
other  buildings,  250  of  which  are  brick ;  33  churches,  in- 
cluding a  Roman  Catholic  church,  a  Mohammedan  mosque, 
and  3  Jewish  synagogues ;  26  schools,  attended  by  about 
2500  scholars ;  a  very  good  public  library ;  2  tri-weekly 
newspapers,  which,  however,  the  Minister  of  the  Interior 
keeps  closed  a  large  part  of  the  time  on  account  of  their 
"  pernicious  tendency " ;    and  a   splendid  new  university 


286  SIBERIA 

building."  The  streets  of  the  city  are  not  paved  and  are 
very  iniporfeetly  lighted,  but  at  the  time  of  our  visit  they 
seemed  to  be  reasonably  clean  and  well  cared  for,  and  the 
town,  as  a  whole,  impressed  me  much  more  favorably  than 
many  towns  of  its  class  in  European  Russia. 

The  province  of  which  Tomsk  is  the  capital  has  an  area 
of  3o0,000  square  miles,  and  is  therefore  about  seven  times 
as  large  as  the  State  of  Pennsylvania.  It  contains  8  towns, 
each  of  which  has  on  an  average  14,000  inhabitants,  and 
2719  villages,  each  of  which  has  on  an  average  366  inhabi- 
tants, so  that  its  total  population  is  about  1,100,000.  Of 
this  number  90,000  are  aborigines,  and  30,000  communal 
exiles,  or  eommon  criminals  banished  from  European  Rus- 
sia. The  southern  part  of  the  province  is  very  fertile,  is 
well  timbered  and  watered,  and  has  a  fairly  good  climate. 
The  3,600,000  acres  of  land  which  it  has  under  cultiva- 
tion yield  annually  about  30,000,000  bushels  of  grain  and 
4,500,000  bushels  of  potatoes,  with  smaller  quantities  of 
hemp,  flax,  and  tobacco,  while  the  pastures  around  the 
villages  support  about  2,500,000  head  of  live  stock. 

From  these  statistics  it  will  be  seen  that,  in  spite  of  bad 
government,  restricted  immigration,  and  the  demoralizing 
influence  of  criminal  exile,  the  province  of  Tomsk  is  not 
wholly  barren  or  uncivilized.  If  it  were  in  the  hands  of 
Americans,  and  if  free  immigration  from  European  Russia 

1  The  building  of  the  Tomsk  uui-  versity  repeatedly  upon  this  ground, 
versity  had  been  completed  at  the  time  [^Grazhdanin,  Nos.  275  and  279,  St. 
of  ourvisitjbuttheGovernmeiitseemed  Petersburg,  1888.]  In  July,  1888,  how- 
to  be  unable  or  unwilling  to  tl\row  the  ever,  after  three  years'  consideration, 
institution  open  for  the  reception  of  the  Government  decided  to  open  one 
students.  It  was  thought  and  said,  by  "  faculty,"  or  department,  of  the  new 
a  certain  class  of  reactionists  and  ob-  university,  and  selected,  as  the  most 
scurantists,  that  a  Siberian  university  useful  and  least  "dangerous,"  the  de- 
would  be  a  nucleus  or  rallying-point  partment  of  medicine.  Since  that  time 
for  "Siberian  patriots,"  that  it  would  ithasbeen  possible  for  young  Siberians 
foster  a  spirit  of  independence  and  a  to  get  a  university  training  in  medicine, 
desire  for  separation  from  Eui'opean  but  not  in  any  branch  of  human  know- 
Russia,  and  that,  consequently,  it  ought  ledge  that  has  a  tendency  to  "  excite  the 
not  to  be  opened  at  all.  Prince  Mesh-  mind,"  such  as  history,  political  econ- 
eherski,  for  example,  in  his  newspaper  omy,  or  law. 
Grazhdanin,  attacked  the  Tomsk  uni- 


THE   PROVINCE    AND    THE    CITY    OF    TOMSK 


287 


PEASANT    WOMEN    AT    WORK    IN    BAKNAUL. 


to  it  were  allowed,  it  might  soon  become  as  densely  popu- 
lated and  as  prosperous  as  any  of  our  northwestern  States. 
Its  resources  are  almost  illimitable,  and  all  that  it  needs  is 
good  government  and  freedom  for  the  play  of  private  enter- 


2SS  SIBERIA 

prise.  As  long,  however,  as  a  despotic  administration  at 
St.  Petersburg-  ean  gag  its  newspapers  for  months  at  a  time, 
keep  its  university  closed,  choose  the  teachers  and  prescribe 
the  courses  of  study  for  its  schools,  prohibit  the  reading  of 
the  best  books  in  its  libraries,  bind  its  population  hand  and 
foot  by  a  I'igid  passport  system,  govern  it  through  corrupt 
and  wretchedly  paid  cJim6v)iiA-s,  and  pour  into  it  every  year 
a  flood  of  common  criminals  from  European  Russia,  just 
so  long  will  it  remain  what  it  now  is — a  naturally  enter- 
prising and  promising  colony  strangled  by  oppressive  and 
unnecessary  guardianship.  The  Government,  just  at  the 
present  time,  proposes  to  develop  the  resources  of  the  prov- 
ince by  building  through  it  a  railroad.  It  might  much 
better  loosen  the  grasp  in  which  it  holds  the  people  by  the 
throat,  permit  them  to  exercise  some  judgment  with  regard 
to  the  management  of  their  own  affairs,  allow  them  freely 
to  discuss  their  needs  and  plans  in  their  own  newspapers, 
abolish  restrictions  upon  personal  liberty  of  movement,  stop 
the  sending  there  of  criminal  exiles,  and  then  let  the  prov- 
ince develop  itself.  It  does  not  need  "  development "  half 
as  much  as  it  needs  to  be  let  alone. 

Our  first  step  in  Tomsk  was  to  call  upon  the  political 
exiles,  and  upon  several  army  officers  to  whom  we  had  let- 
ters of  introduction,  and  ascertain  from  them  the  facts 
that  were  necessary  for  our  guidance.  We  were  received 
by  everybody  with  the  utmost  courtesy  and  kindness,  and 
Colonel  Yagodkin,  the  chief  military  officer  of  the  district, 
not  only  welcomed  us  to  his  house  with  cordial  hospitality, 
but  took  a  friendly  interest  in  all  of  our  prison  investiga- 
tions. Only  a  day  or  two  after  our  arrival  he  called  at  our 
hotel  to  inform  us  that  a  convict  barge  from  Tiumen  had 
arrived  that  morning  at  the  steamer-landing  two  or  three 
miles  from  the  city,  and  to  say  that  if  we  would  like  to  see 
the  reception  of  a  convict  party,  he  would  go  to  the  landing 
with  us  and  introduce  us  to  the  chief  officer  of  the  local  exile 
bureau.     I  thanked  him  for  his  thoughtfulness,  and  in  ten 


THE    PROVINCE    AND    THE    CITY    OF    TOMSK 


289 


minutes  Mr.  Frost,  Colonel  Yagodkin,  and  I  were  driving 
furiously  over  a  muddy  road  toward  the  pristan,  or  land- 
ing-place. Although  we  made  all  possible  haste,  the  pris- 
oners had  disembarked  before  we  reached  our  destination. 
We  found  them  assembled  in  two  dense  gray  throngs  at  the 
ends  of  a  long  wooden  shed,  which  was  surrounded  and 
turned  into  a  sort  of  cattle-pen  by  a  high  plank  wall.  Here 
they  were  identified,  counted,  and  turned  over  by  the  con- 


KOLIVAN    LAKE. 


voy  officer  to  the  warden  of  the  Tomsk  forwarding  prison. 
The  shed  was  divided  transversely  through  the  middle  by 
a  low  wooden  barricade,  at  one  end  of  which  was  a  fenced 
inclosure,  about  ten  feet  square,  for  the  accommodation  of 
the  officers  who  had  to  take  part  in  the  reception  of  the 
party.  About  half  the  exiles  had  been  formally  "received" 
and  were  standing  at  the  eastern  end  of  the  shed,  while  the 
other  half  were  grouped  in  a  dense  throng  at  the  western 
end,  waiting  for  their  names  to  be  called.  The  women, 
19 


290  SIBERIA 

wilt)  stood  huddled  together  in  a  group  by  themselves,  were 
mostly  ill  peasant  costumes,  with  bright-colored  kerchiefs 
over  their  heads,  and  their  faces,  I  thought,  showed  great 
anxiety  and  apprehension.  The  men  all  wore  long  gray 
overcoats  over  coarse  linen  shirts  and  trousers ;  most  of 
them  were  in  chains,  and  the  bare  heads  of  the  convicts 
and  the  penal  colonists  had  l)een  half  shaved  longitudinally 
in  such  a  way  that  one  side  of  the  scalp  was  smooth  and 
blue  while  the  other  side  was  hidden  by  long,  neglected 
hair.  Soldiers  stood  here  and  there  around  the  shed,  lean- 
ing upon  their  bayoneted  rifles,  and  inside  the  little  inclos- 
ure  were  the  convoy  officer  of  the  party,  the  warden  and 
the  surgeon  of  the  Tomsk  forwarding  prison,  the  chief  of 
the  local  bureau  of  exile  administration,  and  two  or  three 
other  officers,  all  in  full  uniform.  Colonel  Yagodkin  intro- 
duced us  as  American  travelers  who  desired  to  see  the  re- 
ception of  an  exile  party,  and  we  were  invited  to  stand 
inside  the  inclosure. 

The  officer  who  was  conducting  the  examination  of  the 
convicts  drew  a  folded  paper  from  a  large  bundle  in  his 
hand,  opened  and  glanced  at  it,  and  then  shouted,  "  Nikolai 
Koltsof !  "  A  thin,  pale  man,  with  heavy,  wearied  eyes  and 
a  hopeless  expression  of  face,  who  was  standing  in  the 
front  rank  of  the  exile  party,  picked  up  the  gray  linen  bag 
that  lay  beside  him  on  the  floor,  and  with  a  slow  clink, 
clink,  clink  of  chains  walked  to  the  inclosure.  The  exam- 
ining officer  compared  his  face  carefully  with  a  photo- 
graph attached  to  the  stateini  spisak  or  "  identification 
paper,"  in  order  to  make  sure  that  the  pale  man  had  not 
"  exchanged  names  "  with  some  other  exile,  while  a  Cossack 
orderly  examined  him  from  head  to  foot  and  rummaged 
through  his  bag  to  see  that  he  had  neither  lost  nor  sur- 
reptitiously sold  the  articles  of  clothing  that  he  had  re- 
ceived in  Moscow  or  Tiumen,  and  that  his  stateini  spisak 
called  for. 

"  Is  everything  there  1 "  inquired  the  officer. 


THE    PROVINCE    AND    THE    CITY    OF    TOMSK  291 

"  Everything,"  replied  the  Cossack. 

"  Stupai !  "  [Pass  on  !]  said  the  lieutenant ;  and  the  pale- 
faced  man  shouldered  his  bag  and  joined  the  ranks  of  the 
"received"  at  the  eastern  end  of  the  shed. 

"  The  photographs  are  a  new  thing,"  whispered  Colonel 
Yagodkin  to  me ;  "  and  only  a  part  of  the  exiles  have  them. 
They  are  intended  to  break  up  the  practice  of  exchanging 
names  and  identities." 

"But  why  should  they  wish  to  exchange  names?"  I 
inquired. 

"If  a  man  is  sentenced  to  hard  labor  at  the  mines,"  he 
replied,  "  and  has  a  little  money,  he  always  tries  to  buy 
secretly  the  name  and  identity  of  some  poor  devil  of  a 
colonist  who  longs  desperately  for  a  drink  of  vodka,  or  who 
wants  money  with  which  to  gamble.  Of  ^iourse  the  con- 
voy officer  has  no  means  of  preventing  this  sort  of  transac- 
tion, because  he  cannot  possibly  remember  the  names  and 
faces  of  the  four  or  five  hundred  men  in  his  party.  If 
the  convict  succeeds  in  finding  a  colonist  who  is  willing  to 
sell  his  name,  he  takes  the  colonist's  place  and  is  assigned 
a  residence  in  some  village,  while  the  colonist  takes  the 
convict's  place  and  goes  to  the  mines.  Hundreds  of  hard- 
labor  convicts  escape  in  this  way."^ 

"  Hassan  Abdallimof  !  "  called  the  examining  officer.  No 
one  moved. 

"Hassan  Abdallimof!"  shouted  the  Cossack  orderly, 
more  loudly. 

"  Go  on.  Stumpy ;  that 's  you  !  "  said  half  a  dozen  exiles 
in  an  undertone  as  they  pushed  out  of  the  throng  a  short, 
thickly  set,  bow-legged  Tatar,  upon  whose  flat,  swarthy 
face  there  was  an  expression  of  uncertainty  and  bewilder- 
ment. 

"  He  does  n't  know  Russian,  your  High  Nobility,"  said 
one  of  the  exiles  respectfully,  "  and  he  is  glupovati  "  [dull- 
witted]. 

1 1  shall  explain  this  practice  of  exchanging  names  more  fully  in  a  later  chapter. 


292 


SIBERIA 


"  Bring  him  here,"  said  the  officer  to  the  Cossack  orderly. 

When  Hassan  had  been  examined,  he  did  not  shoulder 
his  bag  and  go  to  his  place  as  he  should  have  done,  but  be- 
gan to  bow  and  gesticulate,  and  to  make  supplications  in 


the  Tatar  language,  becoming  more  and  more  excited  as 
he  talked. 

"  What  does  he  say  f  "  inquired  the  officer.  "  Find  some 
soldier  who  knows  Tatar."  An  interpreter  was  soon  found 
and  Hassan  repeated  his  story. 


THE   PROVINCE   AND   THE   CITY   OF   TOMSK  293 

"He  says,  your  High  Nobility,"  translated  the  inter- 
preter, "  that  when  he  was  arrested  they  took  eight  rubles 
from  him  and  told  him  the  money  would  be  given  back  to 
him  in  Siberia.  He  wants  to  know  if  he  cannot  have  some 
of  it  now  to  buy  tea." 

"Nyettoo  chai ! "  [No  tea!]  said  the  Tatar  mournfully, 
with  a  gesture  of  utter  desolation. 

"To  the  devil  with  him!"  cried  the  officer  furiously. 
"  What  does  the  blank  blank  mean  by  delaying  the  recep- 
tion of  the  party  with  such  a  trifle  ?  This  is  no  place  to 
talk  about  tea !  He  '11  receive  his  money  when  he  gets  to 
his  destination.  Away  with  him  ! "  And  the  poor  Tatar 
was  hustled  into  the  eastern  end  of  the  shed. 

"Ivan  Dontremember  — the  red-headed,"  shouted  the 
examining  officer. 

"  That  's  a  hrodydg "  (a  vagrant  or  tramp),  whispered 
Colonel  Yagodkin  to  me  as  a  sun-burned,  red-headed  muz- 
hik  in  chains  and  leg-fetters,  and  with  a  tea-kettle  hanging 
from  his  belt,  approached  the  inclosure.  "He  has  been 
arrested  while  wandering  around  in  Western  Siberia,  and  as 
there  is  something  in  his  past  history  that  he  does  n't  want 
brought  to  light,  he  refuses  to  disclose  his  identity,  and 
answers  all  questions  with  'I  don't  remember.'  The  tramps 
all  call  themselves  'Ivan  Dontremember,'  and  they  're 
generally  a  bad  lot.  The  penalty  for  belonging  to  the 
'  Dontremember '  family  is  five  years  at  the  mines."  The 
examining  officer  had  no  photogi^aph  of  "Ivan  Dontre- 
member, the  red-headed,"  and  the  latter's  identity  was  es- 
tablished by  ascertaining  the  number  of  teeth  that  he  had 
lost,  and  by  examining  a  scar  over  his  right  ear. 

One  by  one  the  exiles  passed  in  this  way  before  the  ex- 
amining officer  until  all  had  been  identified,  counted,  and 
turned  over,  and  then  the  warden  of  the  Tomsk  forwarding 
prison  gave  a  receipt  to  the  convoy  officer  of  the  barge  for 
551  prisoners,  including  71  children  under  15  years  of  age, 
who  were  accompanying  their  fathers  or  mothers  into  exile. 


294  SIBEKIA 

At  the  end  of  the  verilication  and  reception  some  of  the 
offieers  returned  to  the  city ;  but  Colonel  Yagodkin,  Mr. 
Frost,  and  I  remained  to  see  the  siirgi(»al  examination  of 
the  sick  and  disabled,  and  to  inspect  the  convict  barge. 
Doctor  Orzheshko,  the  surgeon  of  the  Tomsk  prison,  then 
took  the  place  that  had  been  occupied  by  the  examining 
officer,  laid  a  stethoscope  and  two  or  three  other  instru- 
ments upon  a  small  table  beside  him,  and  began  a  rapid 
examination  of  a  long  line  of  incapacitated  men,  some  of 
whom  were  really  sick  and  some  of  whom  were  merely 
shamming.  The  object  of  the  examination  was  to  ascer- 
tain how  many  of  the  prisoners  were  unable  to  walk,  in 
order  that  the  requisite  number  of  telegas  might  be  pro- 
^dded  for  their  transportation  to  the  city.  The  first  man 
who  presented  himself  was  thin,  pale,  and  haggard,  and  in 
reply  to  a  question  from  the  surgeon  said,  with  a  sepulchral 
cough,  that  his  breast  hurt  him  and  that  he  could  not 
breathe  easily.  Dr.  Orzheshko  felt  his  pulse,  put  a  stetho- 
scope to  his  lungs,  listened  for  a  moment  to  the  respiratory 
murmur,  and  then  said  briefly,  "  Pass  on ;  you  can  walk." 
The  next  man  had  a  badh^  swollen  ankle,  upon  which  his 
leg-fetter  pressed  heavily,  evidently  causing  him  great  pain. 
He  looked  imploringly  at  the  doctor  while  the  latter  exam- 
ined the  swollen  limb,  as  if  he  would  beseech  him  to  have 
mercy ;  but  he  said  not  a  word,  and  when  his  case  was  ap- 
proved and  a  wagon  was  ordered  for  him,  he  crossed  him- 
self devoutly  three  times,  and  his  lips  moved  noiselessly, 
as  if  he  were  saying  softly  under  his  breath,  "  I  thank  thee, 
O  God ! " 

There  were  forty  or  fifty  men  in  the  line  of  prisoners 
awaiting  examination,  and  the  surgeon  disposed  of  them  at 
the  rate  of  about  one  a  minute.  Some  had  fever,  some 
were  suffering  from  rheumatism,  some  were  manifestly  in 
an  advanced  stage  of  prison  consumption,  and  all  seemed 
to  me  sick,  wretched,  or  weak  enough  to  deserve  wagons ; 
but  the  experienced  senses  of  the  surgeon  quickly  detected 


THE   PROVINCE   AND   THE   CITY   OF   TOMSK 


295 


the  malingerers  and  the  men  who  were  only  slightly  in- 
disposed, and  quietly  bade  them  "  Pass  on  ! "  At  the  end 
of  the  examination  Dr.  Orzheshko  reported  to  the  prison 


FEKKY    ON    THE    RIVER    OH    MAU    l;Ai;.NAUL 


warden  that  there  were  twenty-five  persons  in  the  party 
who  were  not  able  to  walk  to  the  city,  and  who,  therefore, 
would  have  to  be  carried.  The  necessary  wagons  were 
ordered,  the  sick  and  the  women  with  infants  were  placed 


29G  SIBERIA 

ill  tlieiii,  and  jit  tli<^  order  "Stroisa!"  [For^i  ranks!]  the 
convicts,  witli  a  confused  clinking  of  chains,  took  posi- 
tions outside  tlie  shed  in  a  somewliat  ragged  cohinin  ;  the 
soldiers,  with  shouldered  riHes,  went  to  their  stations  in 
front,  beside,  and  behind  the  party  ;  and  Mr.  Pepelaief,  the 
chief  of  the  local  exile  bureau,  stepping  upon  a  chair,  cried, 
"Nu  rebatta"  [Well,  boys],  "have  you  anything  to  say  or 
any  complaints  to  make  ?  " 

"  No ;  nothing,  your  Nobility,"  replied  seventy-five  or  a 
hundred  voices. 

"Well,  then,  S'Bogem  "  [Go  with  God]. 

The  soldiers  threw  open  the  wooden  gate  of  the  yard  or 
pen  ;  the  under-officer  shouted  "  Ready  —  March  ! "  and 
with  a  renewed  jingling  of  multitudinous  chains,  the  gray 
column  moved  slowly  out  into  the  muddy  road. 

As  soon  as  an  opportunity  presented  itself.  Colonel  Ya- 
godkin  introduced  us  to  Mr.  Pepelaief,  the  chief  officer  of 
the  local  exile  bureau,  w^ho  supervised  the  reception  and 
the  forwarding  of  exile  parties,  the  equipment  of  the  con- 
victs with  clothing,  and  the  examination  and  verification  of 
their  papers.  Mr.  Pepelaief,  a  rather  tall,  thin  man,  with  a 
hard,  cold  face,  greeted  us  politely,  but  did  not  seem  pleased 
to  see  us  there,  and  was  not  disposed  to  permit  an  inspec- 
tion of  the  convict  barge. 

"  What  do  they  want  to  go  on  board  the  barge  for  ? "  he 
inquired  rather  curtly  of  Colonel  Yagodkin.  "  There  is 
nothing  to  see  there,  and  besides  it  is  inconvenient ;  the 
women  are  now  cleaning  it." 

Colonel  Yagodkin,  however,  knew  that  I  was  particularly 
anxious  to  see^in  what  condition  the  floating  prison  was 
when  the  convicts  left  it,  and,  a  few  moments  later,  he  in- 
troduced us  to  the  convoy  officer,  and  again  suggested 
a  visit  to  the  barge.  This  time  he  was  successful.  The 
convoy  officer  evidently  did  not  see  any  reason  why  Col- 
onel Yagodkin  should  not  go  on  board  the  barge  with  his 
friends  if  he  wished  to  do  so,  and  he  at  once  cheerfully 


THE   PEOVINCE   AND   THE   CITY   OF   TOMSK  297 

offered  to  accompany  us.  The  barge  was,  apparently,  the 
same  one  that  I  had  inspected  in  Tinmen  two  months 
before.  Then  it  was  scrupulously  clean,  and  the  air  in  its 
cabins  was  fresh  and  pure ;  but  now  it  suggested  a  recently 
vacated  wild-beast  cage  in  a  menagerie.  It  was  no  more 
dirty,  perhaps,  than  might  have  been  expected;  but  its 
atmosphere  was  heavy  with  a  strong  animal  odor ;  its  floors 
were  covered  with  dried  mud,  into  which  had  been  trodden 
refuse  scraps  of  food ;  its  ndr%  or  sleeping-benches,  were 
black  and  greasy,  and  strewn  with  bits  of  dirty  paper ;  and 
in  the  gray  light  of  a  cloudy  day  its  dark  kdmeras,  with 
their^  small  grated  port-holes,  muddy  floors,  and  polluted 
ammoniacal  atmosphere,  chilled  and  depressed  me  with 
suggestions  of  human  misery. 

The  Eev.  Henry  Lansdell,  in  a  magazine  article  published 
two  or  three  years  ago,'  says,  "I  have  seen  some  strong 
statements,  alleging  the  extreme  unhealthiness  of  these 
barges,  .  .  .  and  I  do  not  suppose  that  they  are  as  healthy 
as  a  first-class  sanatorium." 

If  Mr.  Lansdell  made  a  careful  examination  of  a  convict 
barge  immediately  after  the  departure  from  it  of  a  convict 
party,  the  idea  of  a  "  sanatorium  "  certainly  could  not  have 
been  suggested  to  him  by  anything  that  he  saw,  touched, 
or  smelled.  It  suggested  to  me  nothing  so  much  as  a  re- 
cently vacated  den  in  a  zoological  garden.  It  was,  as  I 
have  said,  no  more  dirty  and  foul  than  might  have  been  ex- 
pected after  ten  days  of  such  tenancy ;  but  it  could  have 
been  connected  in  one's  mind  with  a  "  sanatorium "  only 
by  a  violent  wrench  of  the  imagination.  As  a  proof,  how- 
ever, that  a  convict  barge  in  point  of  healthfulness  does 
not  fall  far  short  of  "  a  first-class  sanatorium,"  Mr.  Lans- 
dell quotes  a  statement  made  to  him  by  "  an  officer  who 
had  charge  of  the  prisoners  between  Tinmen  and  Tomsk," 
to  the  effect  that  "  during  the  season  of  1882,  8  barges  car- 

1  "  Russian  Convicts  in  the  Salt  Mines  of  Iletsk  "  ;  Harper's  Magazine,  May, 
1888,  pp.  894-910. 


2!)S  SIBEKIA 

riiHl  6000  prisoners  a  voyage  of  neai'ly  2000  miles,  and 
yet  only  two  [and  one  of  them  a  child]  died  on  the 
passai2:e,  while  only  20  were  delivered  invalided  at 
Tomsk." 

Inasmuch  as  I  once  took  the  same  view  of  the  exile  sys- 
tem that  Mr.  Lansdell  now  takes,  and  have  been  forced  to 
confess  myself  in  error,  it  may  be  proper  for  me  to  say, 
without  reflecting  in  any  w^ay  upon  Mr.  Lansdell's  conscien- 
tiousness and  sincerity,  that  the  statement  which  he  quotes 
has  not  the  slightest  foundation  in  fact,  and  was  probably 
made  to  him  by  the  convoy  officer  with  a  deliberate  inten- 
tion to  deceive.  According  to  the  official  report  of  the  in- 
spector of  exile  transportation  for  1882, —  the  year  to  which 
Mr.  Lansdell's  information  relates,—  the  number  of  prison- 
ers carried  on  convict  barges  was  not  6000,  but  10,245.  Of 
this  number  279  were  taken  sick  on  the  barges,  22  died, 
and  80  were  left  dangerously  sick  at  river  ports,  or  were 
delivered  in  that  condition  at  Tomsk.^  These,  it  must  be 
remembered,  were  the  cases  of  sickness  and  the  deaths  that 
occurred  in  a  voyage  which  averages  only  ten  days  in  dura- 
tion. If,  in  a  population  of  10,245  souls,  279  persons  were 
taken  sick  and  22  died  every  10  days,  we  should  have  an 
annual  sick-rate  of  nearly  99  per  cent.,  and  an  annual  death- 
rate  of  nearly  8  per  cent.  It  would  not,  I  think,  be  a  very 
popular  "  sanatorium  "  in  which  99  per  cent,  of  all  the  per- 
sons who  entered  it  comparatively  well  became  seriously 
sick  in  the  course  of  the  year,  and  eight  per  cent,  of  the 
whole  number  died.  But  sickness  on  the  convict  barges 
has  been  far  more  prevalent  than  this  —  and  within  recent 
years.  In  1879,  724  prisoners  were  taken  sick  between  Tin- 
men and  Tomsk,  and  51  died;  and  in  1871, 1140  were  taken 
sick  out  of  a  whole  number  of  9416  carried,  and  111  died. 
Such  a  rate  of  mortality  as  that  shown  by  the  death  of  111 
persons  out  of  9416  in  10  days  would  entirely  depopulate 

1  Annual  Report  of  the  Inspector  of  Exile  Transportation  for  Western  Siberia, 
p.  12  of  the  manuscript. 


THE   PROVINCE   AND   THE   CITY   OF   TOMSK 


299 


in  a  single  year,  not  only  "  a  first-class  sanatorium,"  but  a 
village  of  4000  inhabitants. 

In  a  foot-note  below  will  be  found  a  tabulated  state- 
ment of  the  cases  of  sickness  and  death  which  occurred  on 
the  convict  barges  between  Tinmen  and  Tomsk  in  the 
fifteen  years  beginning  with  1870  and  ending  with  1884. 
I  copied  the  figures  myself  from  the  manuscripts  of  the 
official  reports,  and  so  far  as  transcription  is  concerned,  I 
will  guarantee  their  accuracy.' 

It  will  be  seen  that  during  this  period  there  has  been,  on 
the  whole,  a  steady  improvement  in  the  hygienic  condition 
of  the  barges,  and  a  corresponding  decrease  in  the  sick-  and 
death-rates.     The  mortality  now  is  chiefly  among  children, 

1  Sickness  and  Mortality  on  Convict  Barges  Between  Tium^n  and 
Tomsk  —  Ten  Days. 


Number  Carried.  '     taken  Sick. 


1870 

1871 

1872 

7444 
8202 
7246 

1873 

7923 

1874  

8068 

1875 

7771 

1876 

8878 

1877 

1878.  .  .. 

9065 
8749 

1879  

8977 

1880 

1881 

8844 
9011 

1882  ■. 

1H83 

8832 
9506 

1884    

9004 

1492       No  information. 


Grand  Totals. 


1214 
1098 
1090 
1269 
1301 
1455 
1499 
1688 
1342 
1425 
1452 
1413 
1543 
1688 


1140 
486 
673 
574 
579 


492 
300 
193 
570 
391 
197 
202 
150 
103 


121 
133 
151 
154 
138 
22 
77 
107 
113 


111 
30 
23 
21 

16 


DELmCKED  SICK. 


Noinfoiinatiou. 
...      301 

...         70 

. .         190 

.  .  196 

115 


119 
143 
216 
182 
85 
71 
62 
66 
67 


20969    2598  3452  1016 


25   286  258   1011   872  299 


It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  these 
figures  show  only  a  small  part  of  the 
sickness  and  mortality  in  convict  par- 
ties from  points  of  departure  to  points 
of  destination.  Before  reaching  Tin- 
man the  convicts  travel  by  barge  from 
Nizhni  Novgorod  to  Perm,  a  distance 


of  nearly  1000  miles,  and  after  leaving 
Tomsk  many  of  them  walk  nearly  2000 
miles  into  Eastern  Siberia.  In  a  sub- 
sequent paper  I  shall  give  statistics  of 
sickness  and  mortality  for  the  whole 
journey  from  Moscow  to  Irkutsk. 


300 


SIBERIA 


who,  of  t'ourse,  are  less  able  than  adults  to  endure  the 
hardshijis,  the  privations,  and  exposures  of  barge  life.  I 
am  glad  to  be  able  to  say  that,  in  my  judgment,  the  inspec- 
tor of  exile  transportation  and  the  local  Sil)erian  author- 


ities are  now  doing  all  that  lies  in  their  power  to  do  for 
the  comfort  and  health  of  exiles  on  the  voyage  between 
Tinmen  and  Tomsk.  The  barges  are  thoroughly  cleaned 
and  fumigated  after  every  trip,  and  the  prisoners  are  as 
well  fed  and  cared  for  as  they  can  be  with  the  limited  sum 


THE   PROVINCE   AND   THE   CITY   OF   TOMSK  301 

of  money  that  the  Government  appropriates  for  the  pur- 
pose. The  suffering  and  disease  which  still  exist  are  attrib- 
utable mainly  to  overcrowding,  and  overcrowding  the 
Siberian  officials  cannot  prevent.  Ten  or  twelve  thousand 
exiles  are  turned  over  to  them  every  summer,  and  they  must 
send  them  eastward  as  best  they  can  while  the  season  of 
navigation  lasts.  They  have  only  three  barges,  and  eighteen 
round  trips  are  all  that  can  be  made  during  the  time  that 
the  river  remains  open.  They  are  therefore  compelled  to 
send  from  600  to  800  exiles  in  a  single  barge  at  every  trip, 
and  this  inevitably  results  in  a  great  deal  of  sickness  and 
suffering. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   TOMSK   FORWARDING   PRISON 

AMONG-  the  questions  most  frequently  asked  me  since 
my  return  from  Russia  are,  "  How  did  you  manage  to 
gain  admittance  to  Siberian  prisons  and  etapes,  to  make 
the  acquaintance  everywhere  of  banished  political  offenders, 
and  to  get  access  to  so  many  official  documents  and  re- 
ports? Did  not  the  local  authorities  know  what  you  were 
doing,  and,  if  so,  why  did  they  not  put  a  stop  to  your 
investigations,  or  at  least  throw  more  obstacles  in  your 
way!" 

I  cannot  give  perfectly  satisfactory  answers  to  these 
questions,  because  I  do  not  know  what  instructions  were 
given  to  the  local  authorities  concerning  us,  nor  what  view 
was  taken  of  our  movements  by  the  Siberian  police.  I  can, 
however,  indicate  the  policy  that  we  pursued,  and  the 
measures  that  we  adopted  to  avert  suspicion  when  it  be- 
came necessary  to  do  so,  and  can  suggest  some  of  the 
reasons  for  the  generally  non-aggressive  attitude  taken 
towards  us  by  the  Siberian  officials. 

In  the  first  place,  it  seems  to  me  probable  that  when  I 
called  upon  the  high  authorities  in  St.  Petersburg  and 
asked  permission  to  go  to  Siberia  to  inspect  prisons  and 
study  the  exile  system,  the  officials  reasoned  somewhat  in 
this  way :  "  It  is  neither  practicable  nor  politic  to  exclude 
foreigners  from  Siberia  altogether.  Americans  and  West 
Europeans  will  not  be  satisfied  until  they  have  investigated 
this  exile  question  ;  and  if  we  deny  them  opportunities  for 


THE   TOMSK   FOKWAKDING   PRISON  303 

such  investigation,  they  will  say  that  we  are  afraid  to  have 
the  condition  of  our  prisons  known.  Mr.  Kennan  is  a 
friendly  observer ;  he  has  defended  us  and  the  exile  system 
in  an  address  before  the  American  Geographical  Society; 
he  has  publicly  taken  our  side  as  against  the  nihilists ;  and 
his  main  object  in  going  to  Siberia  seems  to  be  to  get  facts 
with  which  to  fortify  his  position  as  our  champion.  Under 
such  circumstances  he  is  not  likely  to  take  a  very  pessi- 
mistic view  of  things,  and  if  somebody  must  go  to  Siberia 
and  look  through  our  prisons,  he  is  the  very  man  to  do  it.' 
Mr.  Lansdell  gave,  on  the  whole,  a  favorable  account  of  the 
working  of  our  penal  institutions,  and  there  is  every  reason 
to  suppose  that  Mr.  Kennan,  who  is  already  friendly  to  us, 
will  follow  his  example.  The  reports  of  these  two  gentle- 
men will  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  the  western  world,  and 
thus  prevent  further  research;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
they  will  furnish  us  with  a  means  of  silencing  foreign  critics 
and  accusers.  If  an  English  clergyman  and  an  American 
journalist  declare,  after  personal  investigation  on  the  ground, 
that  there  is  nothing  particularly  terrible  about  the  exile 
system,  the  world  will  probably  accept  the  judgment.  We 
will,  therefore,  allow  Messrs.  Kennan  and  Frost  to  go  to 
Siberia,  and  will  give  them  letters  of  recommendation ;  but 
we  will  make  them  apply  to  the  local  authorities,  in  all 
cases,  for  permission  to  inspect  prisons,  and  then,  if  neces- 
sary or  expedient,  we  can  direct  secretly  that  such  per- 
mission be  denied.     There  is,  of  course,  some  danger  that 

1  Mr.  Vlangdlli,  the  Assistant  Minis-  tional  narrative;  that  in  my  opinion 
ter  of  Foreign  Affairs,  had  already  seen  the  exile  system  had  been  painted  in 
a  copy  of  my  address  before  the  Ameri-  too  dark  colors  ;  and  that  a  fair  state- 
can  Geographical  Society  upon  "Siberia  meut  of  the  real  facts  would,  I  thought, 
and  the  Exile  System";  and  the  con-  interest  the  whole  civilized  world,  and, 
elusions  which  I  here  attribute  to  him  at  the  same  time,  be  of  service  to  the 
might  have  been  drawn,  fairly  enough.  Government.  In  this,  as  I  have  befoi'e 
from  the  frank  and  honest  statements  said,  there  was  not  the  least  insincerity 
that  I  made  to  him.  I  did  not  promise  or  diplomacy.  My  statements  were 
that  I  would  defend  the  Russian  Gov-  strictly  and  exactly  in  accordance  with 
ernment,  but  I  did  assure  him  that  I  my  opinions, 
had  no  intention  of  writing  a  sensa- 


304  SIBERIA 

they  will  meet  political  exiles,  but  they  seem  already  to  be 
strongly  prejndieod  against  such  offenders,  and  we  will 
prejudice  tlicni  still  further  by  giving  them  a  letter  of 
introduction  to  Mr.  Katkoff,  and  by  instructing  the  latter 
to  see  that  they  are  furnished  in  advance  with  proper 
information.  If  their  relations  with  political  criminals  in 
Siberia  become,  nevertheless,  too  close  and  intimate,  we  can 
at  any  time  direct  that  they  be  warned,  or,  if  necessary, 
that  they  be  |)ut  under  surveillance." 

My  belief  that  this  was  the  reasoning  of  the  high  officials 
in  St.  Petersburg  is  based  mainly,  of  course,  upon  conjec- 
ture; but  it  is  supported  collaterally  by  the  whole  of  our 
Siberian  experience.  It  was  everywhere  apparent  that  the 
question  of  admitting  us  to  prisons  or  excluding  us  there- 
from had  been  left  to  the  discretion  of  the  Siberian  author- 
ities; and  that  the  latter,  in  their  dealings  with  us,  were 
guided  mainly  by  circumstances  and  by  personal  views  and 
impressions.  It  was  in  the  highest  degree  important,  there- 
fore, that  we  should  so  conduct  ourselves  as  to  gain  the 
confidence  and  good- will  of  these  officers,  and  that  we  should 
prosecute  our  researches  in  the  field  of  political  exile  in  such 
a  manner  as  not  to  excite  comment  or  give  occasion  for  re- 
port. Nine-tenths  of  the  towns  and  villages  through  which 
we  passed  were  in  communication  with  St.  Petersburg  by 
telegraph.  If  the  police  should  discover  that  we  were  sys- 
tematically visiting  the  political  exiles  and  taking  letters  of 
introduction  from  one  colony  to  another,  they  might  send 
a  telegram  any  day  to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  saying, 
"Kennan  and  Frost  are  establishing  intimate  relations 
everywhere  with  administrative  exiles  and  state  criminals. 
Was  it  the  intention  of  the  Grovernment  that  this  should  be 
permitted  ? "  I  did  not  know  what  answer  would  be  made 
to  such  a  telegram;  but  there  certainly  was  a  strong  prob- 
ability that  it  would  at  least  result  in  an  official  "  warning," 
or  in  a  stricter  supervision  of  our  movements,  and  thus  ren- 
der the  accomplishment  of  our  purposes  extremely  diffi- 


THE   TOMSK   FORWARDING   PRISON  305 

cult.  Our  letters  of  recommendation  might  protect  us  from 
unauthorized  interference  at  the  hands  of  the  local  author- 
ities; but  they  could  not  save  us  from  an  arrest  or  a  search 
ordered  by  telegraph  from  St.  Petersburg.  That  telegraph 
line,  therefore,  for  nearly  a  year  hung  over  our  heads  like 
an  electric  sword  of  Damocles,  threatening  every  moment 
to  fall  and  cut  short  our  career  of  investigation. 

Up  to  the  time  of  our  arrival  at  Ust  Kamenogorsk  we 
had  had  no  trouble  with  the  police,  and  our  intercourse  with 
the  political  exiles  had  been  virtually  unrestricted.  As  we 
began,  however,  to  accumulate  letters  and  documents  that 
would  be  compromising  to  the  writers  and  givers  if  discov- 
ered, we  deemed  it  prudent  to  mask  our  political  investiga- 
tions, as  far  as  practicable,  under  a  semblance  of  interest  in 
other  things,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  cultivate  the  most 
friendly  possible  relations  with  the  local  authorities.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  to  avoid  the  police,  as  if  we  were  afraid 
of  them  or  had  something  to  conceal  from  them,  would  be 
a  fatal  error.  Safety  lay  rather  in  a  policy  of  extreme  bold- 
ness, and  I  determined  to  call  at  the  earliest  moment  upon 
the  isjwdvnik,  or  chief  of  police,  in  every  village,  and  over- 
whelm him  with  information  concerning  our  plans,  purposes, 
and  previous  history,  before  he  had  time  to  form  any  con- 
jectures or  suspicions  wdth  regard  to  us,  and,  if  possible, 
before  he  had  even  heard  of  our  arrival.  After  we  began 
to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  political  exiles  we  had  no 
difficulty  in  getting  from  them  all  necessary  information 
with  regard  to  the  history,  temperament,  and  personal  char- 
acteristics of  an  official  upon  whom  we  purposed  to  call,  and 
we  therefore  had  every  possible  advantage  of  the  latter  in 
any  contest  of  wits.  He  knew  nothing  about  us,  and  had 
to  feel  his  way  to  an  acquaintance  with  us  experimentally; 
while  we  knew  all  about  him,  and  could,  by  virtue  of  our 
knowledge,  adapt  ourselves  to  his  idiosyncrasies,  humor  his 
tastes,  avoid  dangerous  topics,  lead  up  to  subjects  upon 
which  we  were  sure  to  be  in  enthusiastic  agreement,  and 
20 


306  SIBERIA 

thus  convince  him  that  we  were  not  only  good  fellows,  but 
men  of  rare  sagacity  and  judgment  —  as  of  course  we  were ! 
We  made  it  a  rule  to  call  in  evening  dress  upon  every  offi- 
cial, as  a  means  of  showing  him  our  respectful  appreciation 
of  his  rank  and  position;  we  drank  vodlai  and  bitter  cordial 
with  him  —  if  necessary,  up  to  the  limit  of  double  vision; 
we  made  ourselves  agreeable  to  his  wife,  and  Mr.  Frost 
drew  portraits  of  his  children;  and,  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten,  we  thus  succeeded  in  making  ourselves  "  solid  with  the 
administration "  before  we  had  been  in  a  town  or  village 
forty-eight  hours. 

The  next  steps  in  our  plan  of  campaign  were,  first,  to 
forestall  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  the  subordinate  police, 
by  showing  ourselves  publicly  as  often  as  possible  in  the 
company  of  their  superiors;  and,  secondly,  to  supply  the 
people  of  the  village  with  a  plausible  explanation  of  our 
presence  there  by  making  visits  to  schools,  by  ostentatiously 
taking  notes  in  sight  of  the  scholars,  and  by  getting  the 
teachers  to  prepare  for  us  statistics  of  popular  education. 
This  part  of  the  work  generally  fell  to  me,  while  Mr.  Frost 
attracted  public  attention  by  sketching  in  the  streets,  by  col- 
lecting flowers  and  butterflies,  or  by  lecturing  to  station-mas- 
ters and  peasants  upon  geography,  cosmography,  and  the 
phenomena  of  the  heavens.  This  last-mentioned  occupa- 
tion afforded  him  great  amusement,  and  proved  at  the  same 
time  to  be  extremely  useful  as  a  means  of  giving  a  safe 
direction  to  popular  speculations  concerning  us.  Jointly 
I  think  we  produced  upon  the  public  mind  the  impres- 
sion that  we  had  come  to  Siberia  with  what  is  known  in 
Russia  as  an  uchonni  tsel  [a  scientific  aim],  and  that  we 
were  chiefly  interested  in  popular  education,  art,  botany, 
geography,  and  archsBology.  After  we  had  thus  forestalled 
suspicion  by  calling  promptly  upon  the  police,  and  by  fur- 
nishing the  common  people  with  a  ready-made  theory  to 
explain  our  presence  and  our  movements,  we  could  go 
where  we  liked  without  exciting  much   remark,  and  we 


THE   TOMSK   FORWARDING   PRISON  307 

devoted  four  or  five  hours  every  night  to  the  political  ex- 
iles. Now  and  then  some  peasant  would  perhaps  see  us 
going  to  an  exile's  house;  but  as  many  of  the  politicals 
were  known  to  be  scientific  men,  and  as  we  were  travelling 
with  a  "  scientific  aim,"  no  particular  significance  was  at- 
tached to  the  circumstance.  Everybody  knew  that  we  spent 
a  large  part  of  our  time  in  visiting  schools,  collecting  flow- 
ers, sketching,  taking  photographs,  and  hobnobbing  with 
the  local  authorities ;  and  the  idea  that  we  were  particularly 
interested  in  the  political  exiles  rarely  occurred,  I  think,  to 
any  one.  As  we  went  eastward  into  a  part  of  Siberia  where 
the  politicals  are  more  closely  watched,  we  varied  our  policy 
somewhat  to  accord  with  circumstances ;  but  the  rules  that 
we  everywhere  observed  were  to  act  with  confidence  and 
boldness,  to  make  ourselves  socially  agreeable  to  the  local 
authorities,  to  attract  as  much  attention  as  possible  to  the 
side  of  our  life  that  would  bear  close  inspection,  and  to 
keep  the  other  side  in  the  shade.  We  could  not,  of  course, 
conceal  wholly  from  the  police  our  relations  with  the  political 
exiles ;  but  the  extent  and  real  significance  of  such  relations 
were  never,  I  think,  suspected.  At  any  rate,  the  telegraphic 
sword  of  Damocles  did  not  fall  upon  us,  and  until  we  reached 
the  Trans-Baikal  we  did  not  even  receive  a  "  warning." 

Our  work  in  all  parts  of  Siberia  was  greatly  facilitated 
by  the  attitude  of  honest  and  intelligent  officials  towards 
the  system  that  we  were  investigating.  Almost  without 
exception  they  were  either  hostile  to  it  altogether,  or  op- 
posed to  it  in  its  present  form ;  and  they  often  seemed  glad 
of  an  opportunity  to  point  out  to  a  foreign  observer  the 
evils  of  exile  as  a  method  of  punishment,  and  the  frauds, 
abuses,  and  cruelties  to  which,  in  practice,  it  gives  rise. 
This  was  something  that  I  had  neither  foreseen  nor  counted 
upon ;  and  more  than  once  I  was  surprised  and  startled  by 
the  boldness  and  frankness  of  such  officials,  after  they  had 
become  satisfied  that  they  could  safely  talk  to  me  without 
reserve. 


308  SIBEKIA 

"  I  get  my  living  by  the  exile  system,"  said  a  high  officer 
of  the  prison  department  to  me  one  day,  "  and  I  have  no 
fault  to  iind  with  my  position  or  my  pay;  but  I  would 
gladly  resign  both  to-morrow  if  I  could  see  the  system 
abolished.  It  is  disastrous  to  Siberia,  it  is  ruinous  to  the 
criminal,  and  it  causes  an  immense  amount  of  misery ;  but 
what  can  be  done  ?  If  we  say  anything  to  our  superiors  in 
St.  Petersbui-g,  they  strike  us  in  the  face ;  and  they  strike 
\invd  —  it  hurts!  I  have  learned  to  do  the  best  I  can  and 
to  hold  my  tongue." 

*'I  have  reported  upon  the  abuses  and  miseries  in  my 
department,"  said  another  officer,  "until  I  am  tired;  and  I 
have  accomplished  little  or  nothing.  Perhaps  if  you  de- 
scribe them,  something  will  be  done.  The  prison  here  is 
unfit  for  human  habitation, —  it  is  n't  fit  for  a  dog, —  and  I 
have  been  trying  for  years  to  get  a  new  one ;  but  my  efforts 
have  resulted  in  nothing  but  an  interminable  correspon- 
dence." 

Statements  similar  to  these  were  made  to  me  by  at  least 
a  score  of  officers  who  held  positions  of  trust  in  the  civil 
or  military  service  of  the  state,  and  many  of  them  furnished 
me  with  abundant  proof  of  their  assertions  in  the  shape  of 
statistics  and  documentary  evidence. 

In  Tomsk  the  condition  of  the  prisons  and  the  evils  of 
the  exile  system  were  so  well  known  to  everybody,  and  had 
been  so  often  commented  upon  in  the  local  newspapers,  that 
the  higher  officials  did  not  think  it  worth  while  apparently 
to  try  to  conceal  anything  from  us.  The  governor  of  the 
province,  Mr.  Krasofski,  happened  at  that  time  to  be  absent 
from  the  city,  but  his  place  was  being  filled  by  State  Coun- 
cilor Nathaniel  Petukhof,  the  presiding  officer  of  the  pro- 
vincial administration,  who  was  described  to  us  as  a  man 
of  intelligence,  education,  and  some  liberality.  As  soon  as 
I  conveniently  could,  I  called  upon  Mr,  Petukhof,  and  was 
received  by  him  with  great  cordiality.  He  had  read,  as  I 
soon  learned,  my  book   upon   northeastern  Siberia;  and 


THE   TOMSK   FORWAKDING   PRISON  309 

since  it  had  made  a  favorable  impression  upon  him,  he  was 
predisposed  to  treat  me  with  consideration  and  with  more 
than  ordinary  courtesy.  I,  in  turn,  had  heard  favorable 
reports  with  regard  to  his  character ;  and  under  such  cir- 
cumstances we  naturally  drifted  into  a  frank  and  pleasant 
talk  about  Siberia  and  Siberian  affairs.  At  the  end  of  half 
an  hour's  conversation  he  asked  me  if  there  was  any  way 
in  which  he  could  be  of  assistance  to  me.  I  replied  that  I 
should  like  very  much  to  have  permission  to  visit  the  exile 
forwarding  prison.  I  fancied  that  his  face  showed,  for  an 
instant,  a  trace  of  embarrassment;  but  as  I  proceeded  to 
describe  my  visits  to  prisons  in  two  other  provinces,  he 
seemed  to  come  to  a  decision,  and,  without  asking  me  any 
questions  as  to  my  motives,  said,  "  Yes,  I  will  give  you 
permission ;  and,  if  you  like,  I  will  go  with  you."  Then, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  determined,  apparently,  to 
be  frank  with  me,  and  added  gi'avely,  "I  think  you  will  find 
it  the  worst  prison  in  Siberia."  I  expressed  a  hope  that 
such  would  not  be  the  case,  and  said  that  it  could  hardly  be 
worse  than  the  forwarding  prison  in  Tinmen.  He  shrugged 
his  shoulders  slightly,  as  if  to  say,  "You  don't  know  yet 
what  a  Siberian  prison  may  be,"  and  asked  me  what  could 
be  expected  when  buildings  were  crowded  with  more  than 
twice  the  number  of  persons  for  which  they  were  intended. 
a  rpj^g  Tomsk  forwarding  prison,"  he  continued,  "  was  de- 
signed to  hold  1400  prisoners.^  It  now  contains  more  than 
3000,  and  the  convict  barges,  as  they  arrive  from  Tinmen, 
increase  the  number  by  from  500  to  800  every  week,  while 
we  are  able  to  forward  eastward  only  400  a  week.  The 
situation  is,  therefore,  becoming  worse  and  worse  as  the 
summer  advances.     The  prison  kdmeras  are  terribly  over- 

1  According  to  the  report  of  the  in-  estimate,   did  not   perhaps   allow  for 

spector  of  exile  transportation  for  1885,  such  close  packing  as  this.     In  private 

this  prison  would  accommodate  1900  houses  in  Russia  the   amount   of  air 

prisoners,  with  an  allowance  of  eight-  space   regarded  as   essential  for  one 

tenths  of  a  cubic  fathom  of  air  space  grown  person  is  a  little  more  than  five 

per  capita.      (Page   27   of  the   manu-  cubic   fathoms   {Itusskaya  Misl,   May 

script  report.)     Mr.  Petukhof,  in  his  1891 -,  p.  61). 


310  SIBERIA 

erowdod ;  it  is  impossible  to  keep  tliern  clean ;  the  vitiation 
of  tho  air  in  them  causes  a  great  amount  of  disease,  and  the 
prison  hospital  is  already  full  to  overflowing  with  the  dan- 
gerouslj'  sick." 

"  But,"  I  said,  "  why  do  you  not  forward  exiles  eastward 
more  rapidly  and  thus  relieve  the  congestion  in  this  prison? 
Why  can  you  not  increase  the  size  of  your  marching  parties, 
or  send  forward  two  parties  a  week  instead  of  one  !  " 

"  It  is  impracticable,"  replied  the  acting  governor.  "  The 
exile  administration  of  Eastern  Siberia  says  that  it  cannot 
receive  and  distribute  prisoners  faster  than  it  does  now. 
Its  etapes  are  too  small  to  accommodate  larger  parties,  and 
the  convoying  force  of  soldiers  is  not  adequate  to  take  care 
of  two  parties  a  week.  We  tried  one  year  the  plan  that  you 
suggest,  but  it  did  not  work  well." 

"  Does  the  Government  at  St.  Petersburg  know,"  I  in- 
quired, "  of  this  state  of  affairs  ?  " 

"Certainly,"  he  replied.  "It  has  been  reported  upon 
every  year,  and,  besides  writing,  I  have  sent  four  urgent 
telegrams  this  summer  asking  if  something  cannot  be  done 
to  relieve  this  prison." 

"  And  has  nothing  been  done  ? " 

"  Nothing  whatever.  The  number  of  prisoners  here  will 
continue  to  increase  steadily  up  to  the  close  of  river  navi- 
gation, when  the  convict  barges  will  stop  running,  and  then 
we  shall  gradually  clear  out  the  prison  during  the  winter 
months.  In  the  mean  time  typhus  fever  will  prevail  there 
constantly,  and  great  numbers  of  sick  will  lie  uncared  for 
in  their  cells  because  there  is  no  room  for  them  in  the  hos- 
pitals. If  you  visit  the  prison,  my  advice  to  you  is  to 
breakfast  heartily  before  starting,  and  to  keep  out  of  the 
hospital  wards." 

I  thanked  him  for  his  caution,  said  that  I  was  not  afraid 
of  contagion,  and  asked  when  it  would  be  convenient  for 
him  to  go  with  me  to  the  prison.  A  day  was  agreed  upon, 
and  I  took  my  leave. 


THE   TOMSK   FORWAKDING   PRISON  311 

On  Wednesday,  August  26, —  the  day  appointed, —  Mr. 
Petukliof  sent  word  to  me  that  unforeseen  circumstances 
would  prevent  him  from  going  to  the  prison  with  us,  but 
that  we  need  not  postpone  our  visit  on  his  account.  An 
inspecting  party  therefore  was  made  up  of  Colonel  Yagodkin, 
Mr.  Pepelaief  (the  chief  of  the  local  exile  bureau),  and  the 
convoy  officer  of  the  barge,  Mr.  Frost,  and  myself.  It  was 
one  of  the  cold,  gray,  gloomy  days  that  often  come  to  West- 
ern Siberia  in  the  late  summer,  when  the  sky  is  a  canopy  of 
motionless  leaden  clouds,  and  the  wind  blows  sharply  down 
across  the  tundras  from  the  arctic  ocean.  The  air  was  raw, 
with  a  suggestion  of  dampness,  and  an  overcoat  was  not 
uncomfortable  as  we  rode  out  to  the  eastern  end  of  the  city. 

The  first  glimpse  that  we  caught  of  the  Tomsk  forward- 
ing prison  showed  us  that  it  differed  widely  in  type  from 
all  the  Siberian  prisons  we  had  previously  seen.  Instead 
of  the  huge  white,  three-story,  stuccoed  building,  with  nar- 
row arched  windows  and  red  tin  roof,  that  we  had  expected 
to  find,  we  saw  before  us  something  that  looked  like  the  per- 
manent fortified  camp  of  a  regiment  of  soldiers,  or  like  a 
small  prairie  village  on  the  frontier,  surrounded  by  a  high 
stockade  of  sharpened  logs  to  protect  it  from  hostile  Indians. 
With  the  exception  of  the  zigzag-barred  sentry-boxes  at 
the  corners,  and  the  soldiers,  who  with  shouldered  rifles 
paced  slowly  back  and  forth  along  its  sides,  there  was 
hardly  a  suggestion  of  a  prison  about  it.  It  was  simply  a 
stockaded  inclosure  about  three  acres  in  extent,  situated  on 
an  open  prairie  beyond  the  city  limits,  with  a  pyi'amidal 
church-tower  and  the  board  roofs  of  fifteen  or  twenty  log- 
buildings  showing  above  the  serrated  edge  of  the  palisade. 
If  we  had  had  any  doubts,  however,  with  regard  to  the  nature 
of  the  place,  the  familiar  jingling  of  chains,  which  came  to 
our  ears  as  we  stopped  in  front  of  the  wooden  gate,  would 
have  set  such  doubts  at  rest. 

In  response  to  a  summons  sent  by  Mr.  Pepelaief  through 
the  officer  of  the  day,  the  warden  of  the  prison,  a  short, 


312  SIBERIA 

stout,  ehiibby-faeed  young  officer,  named  Ivanenko,  soon 
made  his  appearance,  and  we  were  admitted  to  the  prison 
yard.  Within  the  spacious  inclosure  stood  twelve  or  fifteen 
one-story  log  buildings,  grouped  without  much  apparent 
regularity  about  a  square  log  church.  At  the  doors  of  most 
of  these  buildings  stood  armed  sentries,  and  in  the  unpaved 
streets  or  open  spaces  between  them  were  walking  or  sit- 
ting on  the  bare  ground  hundreds  of  convicts  and  penal 
colonists,  who,  in  chains  and  leg-fetters,  were  taking  their 
daily  outing.  The  log  buildings  with  their  grated  windows, 
the  high  stockade  which  suiTounded  them,  the  armed  sen- 
tries here  and  there,  and  the  throngs  of  convicts  who  in 
long,  gray,  semi-military  overcoats  roamed  aimlessly  about 
the  yard,  would  doubtless  have  reminded  many  a  Union  sol- 
dier of  the  famous  prison  pen  at  Andersonville.  The  prison 
buildings  proper  were  long,  one-story,  barrack-like  houses 
of  squared  logs,  with  board  roofs,  heavily  grated  windows, 
and  massive  wooden  doors  secured  by  iron  padlocks.  Each 
separate  building  constituted  a  kazdrm,  or  prison  ward,  and 
each  ward  was  divided  into  two  large  kdmeras,  or  cells,  by  a 
short  hall  running  transversely  through  the  middle.  There 
were  eight  of  these  kazdrms^  or  log  prisons,  and  each  of  them 
was  designed  to  accommodate  190  men,  with  an  allowance 
of  eight-tenths  of  a  cubic  fathom  of  air  space  per  capita.^ 
They  were  all  substantially  alike,  and  seemed  to  me  to  be 
about  75  feet  long  by  40  feet  wide,  with  a  height  of  12  feet 
between  floors  and  ceilings.  The  first  kdmera  that  we  ex- 
amined was  perhaps  40  feet  square,  and  contained  about 
150  prisoners.  It  was  fairly  well  lighted,  but  its  atmo- 
sphere was  polluted  to  the  last  degree  by  over-respiration, 
and  its  temperature,  raised  by  the  natural  heat  of  the  pris- 

1  The  report  of  the  inspector  of  exile  was  originally  intended  to  hold  1400 
transportation  for  1884  says  that  the  prisoners,  while  the  inspector  of  exile 
Tomsk  prison  contains  ten  of  these  i'«2:-  transportation  reported  in  1884  that 
arms.  The  warden  told  me  that  there  its  normal  capacity  was  1900.  It  con- 
were  only  eight.  Accounts  also  differ  tained,  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  about 
as  to  the  normal  capacity  of  the  prison.  3500. 
Acting-Governor  Petukhof  said  that  it 


THE   TOMSK   FORWAKDING   PRISON 


313 


1514  SIBEKIA 

oners'  bodies,  was  fifteen  or  twenty  degrees  above  that  of 
the  air  outside.  Two  double  rows  of  sleeping-benches  ran 
across  the  Jcdnicra,  but  there  evidently  was  not  room  enough 
on  them  for  half  the  inmates  of  the  neW,  and  the  remainder 
were  forced  to  sleep  under  them,  or  on  the  floor  in  the 
gangways  between  them,  without  pillows,  blankets,  or  bed- 
clothing  of  any  kind.  The  floor  had  been  washed  in  antici- 
pation of  our  visit,  but  the  warden  said  that  in  rainy  weather 
it  was  always  covered  with  mud  and  filth  brought  in  from 
the  yard  by  the  feet  of  the  prisoners,  and  that  in  this  mud 
and  filth  scores  of  men  had  to  lie  down  at  night  to  sleep. 
Many  of  the  convicts,  thinking  that  we  were  officers  or 
inspectors  from  St.  Petersburg,  violated  the  first  rule  of 
prison  discipline,  despite  the  presence  of  the  warden,  by 
complaining  to  us  of  the  heat,  foulness,  and  oppressiveness 
of  the  prison  air,  and  the  terrible  overcrowding,  which  made 
it  difficult  to  move  about  the  kdmera  in  the  daytime,  and 
almost  impossible  to  get  any  rest  at  night.  I  pitied  the 
poor  wretches,  but  could  only  tell  them  that  we  were  not 
officials,  and  had  no  power  to  do  anything  for  them. 

For  nearly  an  hour  we  went  from  kazdrm  to  kazdrm  and 
from  cell  to  cell,  finding  everywhere  the  same  overcrowding, 
the  same  inconceivably  foul  air,  the  same  sickening  odors, 
and  the  same  throngs  of  gray-coated  convicts.  At  last  Mr. 
Pepelaief,  who  seemed  disposed  to  hurry  us  through  the 
prison,  said  that  there  was  nothing  more  to  see  except  the 
kitchen  and  the  hospital,  and  that  he  presumed  we  would 
not  care  to  inspect  the  hospital  wards,  inasmuch  as  they 
contained  seventy  or  eighty  patients  sick  with  malignant 
typhus  fever.  The  young  convoy  officer  of  the  barge,  who 
seconded  all  of  Colonel  Yagodkin's  efforts  to  make  us  thor- 
oughly acquainted  with  the  prison,  asked  the  warden  if  he 
was  not  going  to  show  us  the  "  family  kdmeras "  and  the 
"  halagdnsP 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  warden ;  "  I  will  show  them  any- 
thing that  they  wish  to  see." 


THE   TOMSK   FORWARDING   PRISON  315 

I  had  not  before  heard  of  the  balagdns,  and  Mr.  Pepelaief , 
who  had  to  some  extent  taken  upon  himself  the  guidance 
of  the  party,  seemed  as  anxious  to  prevent  us  from  seeing 
them  as  he  had  been  to  prevent  us  from  seeing  the  convict 
barge. 

The  balagdns  we  found  to  be  long,  low  sheds,  hastily  built 
of  rough  pine  boards,  and  inclosed  with  sides  of  thin,  white 
cotton-sheeting.  They  were  three  in  number,  and  were 
occupied  exclusively  by  family  parties,  women,  and  chil- 
dren. The  first  one  to  which  we  came  was  surrounded  by 
a  foul  ditch  half  full  of  filth,  into  which  water  or  mine  was 
dripping  here  and  there  from  the  floor  under  the  cotton- 
sheeting  wall.  The  halagdn  had  no  windows,  and  all  the 
light  that  it'  received  came  through  the  thin  cloth  which 
formed  the  sides. 

A  scene  of  more  pitiable  human  misery  than  that  which 
was  presented  to  us  as  we  entered  the  low,  wretched  shed 
can  hardly  be  imagined.  It  was  literally  packed  with  hun- 
dreds of  weary-eyed  men,  haggard  women,  and  wailing 
children,  sitting  or  lying  in  all  conceivable  attitudes  upon 
two  long  lines  of  rough  plank  sleeping-benches,  which  ran 
through  it  from  end  to  end,  leaving  gangways  about  four 
feet  in  width  in  the  middle  and  at  the  sides.  I  could  see 
the  sky  through  cracks  in  the  roof ;  the  floor  of  unmatched 
boards  had  given  way  here  and  there,  and  the  inmates  had 
used  the  holes  as  places  into  which  to  throw  refuse  and 
pour  slops  and  excrement ;  the  air  was  insuif erably  fetid  on 
account  of  the  presence  of  a  great  number  of  infants  and 
the  impossibility  of  giving  them  proper  physical  care ;  wet 
underclothing,  which  had  been  washed  in  camp-kettles,  was 
hanging  from  all  the  cross-beams ;  the  gangways  were 
obstructed  by  piles  of  gray  bags,  bundles,  bedding,  and 
domestic  utensils ;  and  in  this  chaos  of  disorder  and  misery 
hundreds  of  human  beings,  packed  together  so  closely  that 
they  could  not  move  without  touching  one  another,  were 
trying  to  exist,  and  to  perform  the  necessary  duties  of 


;U()  SIBERIA 

everyday  life.  It  was  enough  to  make  one  sick  at  heart  to 
see,  subjected  to  such  troatment  and  undergoing  such  suf- 
fering, hundreds  of  women  and  children  who  had  committed 
no  crime,  but  had  merely  shown  their  love  and  devotion  by 
going  into  Siberian  exile  with  the  husbands,  the  fathers,  or 
the  brothers  who  were  dear  to  them. 

As  we  walked  through  the  narrow  gangways  from  one 
end  of  the  shed  to  the  other,  we  were  besieged  by  unhappy 
men  and  women  who  desired  to  make  complaints  or 
petitions. 

"  Your  High  Nobility,"  said  a  heavy-eyed,  anxious-look- 
ing man  to  the  warden,  "  it  is  impossible  to  sleep  here  nights 
on  account  of  tlie  cold,  the  crowding,  and  the  crying  of 
babies.     Can't  something  be  done?" 

"  No,  brother,"  replied  the  warden  kindly ;  "  I  can't  do 
anything.  You  will  go  on  the  road  pretty  soon,  and  then 
it  will  be  easiei'." 

"  Dai  Bogh ! "  [God  grant  it !]  said  the  heavy-eyed  man 
as  he  turned  with  a  mournful  look  to  his  wife  and  a  little 
girl  who  sat  near  him  on  the  sleeping-bench. 

"Batiushka!"  [My  little  father !  My  benefactor!]  cried  a 
pale-faced  woman  with  an  infant  at  her  naked  breast; 
"  won't  you,  for  God's  sake,  let  me  sleep  in  the  bath-house 
with  my  baby  ?  It 's  so  cold  here  nights ;  I  can't  keep 
him  warm." 

"No,  matushka"  [my  little  mother],  said  the  warden; 
"  I  can't  let  you  sleep  in  the  bath-house.  It  is  better  for 
you  here." 

Several  other  women  made  in  succession  the  same  request, 
and  were  refused  in  the  same  way ;  and  I  finally  asked  the 
warden,  who  seemed  to  be  a  kind-hearted  and  sympathetic 
man,  why  he  could  not  let  a  dozen  or  two  of  these  unfor- 
tunate women,  who  had  young  babies,  go  to  the  bath-house 
to  sleep.  "  It  is  cold  here  now,"  I  said,  "  and  it  must  be 
much  worse  at  night.  These  thin  walls  of  cotton-sheeting 
don't  keep  out  at  all  the  raw  night  air." 


THE   TOMSK   FORWARDING   PRISON  317 

"  It  is  impossible,"  replied  the  warden.  "  The  atmosphere 
of  the  bath-house  is  too  hot,  close,  and  damp.  I  tried  letting 
some  of  the  nursing  women  sleep  there,  but  one  or  two  of 
their  babies  died  every  night,  and  I  had  to  stop  it." 

I  appreciated  the  hopelessness  of  the  situation,  and  had 
nothing  more  to  say.  As  we  emerged  from  the  balagdn,  we 
came  upon  Mr.  Pepelaief  engaged  in  earnest  conversation 
with  one  of  the  exiles,  a  good-looking,  blond-bearded  man 
about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  upon  whose  face  there  was 
an  expression  of  agitation  and  excitement,  mingled  with  a 
sort  of  defiant  despair. 

"  I  have  had  only  one  shirt  in  months,"  the  exile  said  in 
a  trembling  voice,  "and  it  is  dirty,  ragged,  and  full  of 
vermin." 

"  Well ! "  said  Mr.  Pepelaief  with  contemptuous  indiffer- 
ence, "  you  '11  get  another  when  you  go  on  the  road." 

"But  when  will  I  go  on  the  road?"  replied  the  exile 
with  increasing  excitement.  "It  may  be  three  months 
hence." 

"  Very  likely,"  said  Mr.  Pepelaief  coldly,  but  with  rising 
temper,  as  he  saw  us  listening  to  the  colloquy. 

"  Then  do  you  expect  a  man  to  wear  one  shirt  until  it 
drops  off  from  him!"  inquired  the  exile  with  desperate 
indignation. 

"  Silence ! "  roared  Mr.  Pepelaief,  losing  all  control  of 
himself.  "  How  dare  you  talk  to  me  in  that  way  1  I  '11  take 
the  skin  off  from  you !  You  '11  get  another  shirt  when  you 
go  on  the  road,  and  not  before.     Away ! " 

The  exile's  face  flushed,  and  the  lump  in  his  throat  rose 
and  fell  as  he  struggled  to  choke  down  his  emotion.  At  last 
he  succeeded,  and,  turning  away  silently,  entered  the 
halagdn. 

"  How  long  will  the  women  and  children  have  to  stay  in 
these  sheds  ?  "  I  asked  the  warden. 

"  Until  the  2d  of  October,"  he  replied. 

"  And  where  will  you  put  them  then  ? " 


318  SIBERIA 

Ho  s]iriiu:ii,vd  his  shoulders,  but  said  nothing. ' 
From  the  balagdtis  we  went  to  a  "family  kdmera^^  in  one 
of  the  log  kamnns.  Here  there  was  the  same  scene  of  dis- 
order and  wretchedness  that  we  had  witnessed  in  the  hala- 
(f(i)i.<!,  with  the  exception  that  the  walls  were  of  logs,  and  the 
air,  although  foul,  was  warm.  Men,  women,  and  children 
were  sitting  on  the  ndrl,  lying  under  them,  standing  in 
throngs  in  the  gangways,  and  occupying  in  one  way  or 
another  every  available  square  foot  of  space  in  the  kdmera. 
I  had  seen  enough  of  this  sort  of  misery,  and  asked  the 
warden  to  take  us  to  the  hospital,  a  two-story  log  building 
situated  near  the  church.  We  were  met  at  the  door  by  Dr. 
Orzheshko,  the  prison  surgeon,  who  was  a  large,  heavily 
built  man,  with  a  strong,  good  face,  and  who  was  by  birth 
a  Pole. 

The  hospital  did  not  differ  materially  from  that  in  the 
prison  at  Tinmen,  except  that  it  occupied  a  building  by 
itself,  and  seemed  to  be  in  better  order.  It  was  intended 
originally  to  hold  50  beds;  but  on  account  of  the  over- 
crowding of  the  prison  it  had  been  found  necessary  to 
increase  the  number  of  beds  to  150,  and  still  nearly  50  sick 
patients  were  unprovided  for  and  had  to  lie  on  benches  or 
on  the  floor.  The  number  of  sick  in  the  hospital  at  the 
time  of  our  visit  was  193,  including  71  cases  of  typhus 
fever.  The  wards,  although  unduly  crowded,  were  clean 
and  neat,  the  bed-clothing  was  plentiful  and  fresh,  and  the 
atmosphere  did  not  seem  to  me  so  terribly  heavy  and  pol- 
luted as  that  of  the  hospital  in  Tinmen.  The  blackboards 
at  the  heads  of  the  narrow  cots  showed  that  the  prevalent 
diseases  among  the  prisoners  were  typhus  fever,  scurvy, 
dysentery,  rheumatism,  anaemia,  and  bronchitis.    Many  of 

1 1  learued  upon  my  return  trip  that  prison  of  the  convict  companies  [ar- 
late  in  October  200  women  and  children  restdntski  roti].  These  measures  were 
were  transferred  to  an  empty  house,  rendered  imperative  by  the  alarming 
hired  for  the  purpose  in  the  city  of  prevalence  of  disease  —  particularly 
Tomsk,  and  that  1000  or  1500  other  typhus  fever  —  in  the  forwarding  pri- 
exiles  were  taken  from  the  forwarding  son  as  a  result  6f  the  terrible  over- 
prison  to  the  city  prison  and  to  the  crowding. 


THE   TOMSK   FORWARDING   PRISON  319 

the  nurses,  I  noticed,  were  women  from  25  to  35  years  of 
age,  who  had  strong,  intelligent  faces,  belonged  apparently 
to  one  of  the  upper  classes,  and  were  probably  medical 
students. 

Early  in  the  afternoon,  after  having  made  as  careful  an 
examination  of  the  whole  prison  as  circumstances  would 
permit,  we  thanked  the  warden,  Mr.  Ivauenko,  for  his 
courteous  attention,  and  for  his  evident  disposition  to  deal 
with  us  frankly  and  honestly,  and  drove  back  to  our  hotel. 
It  was  long  that  night  before  I  could  get  to  sleep,  and  when 
I  finally  succeeded  it  was  only  to  dream  of  crowded  balar/dns, 
of  dead  babies  in  bath-houses,  and  of  the  ghastly  faces  that, 
I  had  seen  in  the  hospital  of  the  Tomsk  forwarding  prison. 

Inasmuch  as  we  did  not  see  this  prison  at  its  worst,  and 
inasmuch  as  I  wish  to  give  the  reader  a  vivid  realization,  if 
possible,  of  the  a^Yful  amount  of  human  agony  that  the 
exile  system  causes,  it  seems  to  me  absolutely  necessary 
to  say  something,  in  closing,  with  regard  to  the  condition 
of  the  Tomsk  forwarding  prison  two  months  after  we  made 
to  it  the  visit  that  I  have  tried  to  describe. 

On  my  return  to  Tomsk  from  Eastern  Siberia,  in  February, 
I  had  a  long  interview  with  Dr.  Orzheshko,  the  prison  sur- 
geon. He  described  to  me  the  condition  of  the  prison,  as  it 
gradually  became  more  and  more  crowded  in  the  late  fall 
after  our  departure,  and  said  to  me:  "You  can  hardly  imagine 
the  state  of  affairs  that  existed  here  in  November.  We  had 
2400  cases  of  sickness  in  the  course  of  the  year,  and 
450  patients  in  the  hospital  at  one  time,  with  beds  for 
only  150.  Three  hundred  men  and  women  dangerously 
sick  lay  on  the  floor  in  rows,  most  of  them  without  pillows 
or  bed-clothing ;  and  in  order  to  find  even  floor  space  for 
them,  we  had  to  put  them  so  close  together  that  I  could  not 
walk  between  them,  and  a  patient  could  not  cough  or  vomit 
without  coughing  or  vomiting  into  his  own  face  or  into  the 
face  of  the  man  lying  beside  him.  The  atmosphere  in  the 
wards  became  so  terribly  polluted  that  I  fainted  repeatedly 


;>2()  SIBERIA 

upon  comiiiix  into  the  hospital  in  the  morning,  and  my 
assistants  had  to  revive  me  by  dashing  water  into  my  face. 
In  order  to  change  and  purify  the  air,  we  were  forced  to 
keep  the  windows  open ;  and,  as  winter  had  set  in,  this  so 
eliilled  the  rooms  that  we  could  not  maintain,  on  the  floor 
where  the  sick  lay,  a  temperature  higher  than  five  or  six 
degrees  Reaumur  above  the  freezing  point.  More  than 
25  per  cent,  of  the  whole  prison  population  were  constantly 
sick,  and  more  than  10  per  cent,  of  the  sick  died.'" 

"  How  long,"  I  inquired,  "  has  this  awful  state  of  things 
existed  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  here  fifteen  years,"  replied  Dr.  Orzheshko, 
"and  it  has  been  so,  more  or  less,  ever  since  I  came." 

"And  is  the  Grovernment  at  St.  Petersburg  aware 
of  it?" 

"  It  has  been  reported  upon  every  year.  I  have  recom- 
mended that  the  hospital  of  the  Tomsk  forwarding  prison 
be  burned  to  the  ground.  It  is  so  saturated  with  contagious 
disease  that  it  is  unfit  for  use.  We  have  been  called  upon 
by  the  prison  department  to  forward  plans  for  a  new  hos- 
pital, and  we  have  forwarded  them.  They  have  been 
returned  for  modification,  and  we  have  modified  them;  but 
nothing  has  been  done."" 

It  is  unnecessary  to  comment  upon  this  frank  statement 
of  the  Tomsk   surgeon.      Civilization  and  humanity  can 

1  The  report  of  the  inspector  of  exile  transportation  shows  how  rapidly  the 
sick-rate  increased  with  the  progressive  overcrowding.  The  figures  are  as 
follows : 


1885, 

Average  daily 

Per  cent,  of 

1885, 

Average  daily 

Per  cent,  of 

Month. 

number  of 

whole  prison 

Month. 

number  of 

whole  prison 

sick. 

population. 

sick. 

population. 

Juue    

108 

5.8 

September  . 

242 

9.6 

July 

170 

6.9 

356 

15.4 

August 

189 

7.1 

November  . 

406 

.    .          25.2 

The  sick-rate  increased  steadily  throughout  the  winter  until  March,  when  it 
reached  high-water  mark  —  40.7  per  cent.;  or  nearly  one-half  the  whole  prison 
population.  [Report  of  Inspector  of  Exile  Transportation  for  1885,  p.  30  of  the 
manuscript.] 

2  In  1887  fifteen  thousand  dollars  [Rep.  of  the  Chief  Pris.  Adm.  for  1887. 
were  approymated  for  the  erection  of  Ministry  of  the  Interior,  St.  Peters- 
new  hospital  barracks  in  this  prison,     burg,  1889.] 


THE   TOMSK   FORWARDING   PRISON  321 

safely  rest  upon  it,  without  argument,  their  case  against  the 
Tomsk  forwarding  prison/ 

1  See  Appendix  E  for  statements  of  to  form  an  independent  judgment,  not 
other  observers  with  regard  to  the  eon-  only  with  regard  to  the  condition  of 
dition  of  this  prison.  An  English  trav-  this  particular  prison,  but  with  regard 
eler — Mr.  H.  de  Windt  —  inspected  it  to  the  trustworthiness  of  certain  writ- 
last  year  and  says  that  he  "  entirely  ers  in  England  who  describe  Siberian 
failed  to  recognize  it  "from  my  "ghastly  prisons  as  equal  to  any  in  Europe,  and 
descriptions."  I  have  appended  his  who  assert  that  an  exile  in  Siberia 
letters  and  my  replies  together  with  "may  be  more  comfortable  than  in 
some  other  material  relating  to  the  many,  and  as  comfortable  as  in  most,  of 
subject,  so  that  the  reader  may  be  able  the  prisons  of  the  world." 


21 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES 

IN  the  city  of  Tomsk,  where  we  spent  more  time  than  in 
any  other  "West- Siberian  town,  we  had  an  opportunity 
to  become  well  acquainted  with  a  large  colony  of  political 
exiles,  and  greatly  to  extend  our  knowledge  of  political 
exile  life.  We  met  there,  for  the  first  time,  men  and  women 
who  had  taken  part  in  the  so-called  "propaganda"  of 
1872-75,  who  had  been  banished  by  sentence  of  a  court, 
and  who  might  fairly  be  called  revolutionists.  They  did 
not  differ  essentially  from  the  administrative  exiles  in 
Semipalatinsk,  Ulbinsk  and  Ust  Kamenogorsk,  except  that 
they  had  been  longer  in  exile  and  had  had  a  much  wider 
range  of  experience.  Solomon  Chudnofski,  for  example,  a 
bright  and  talented  publicist,  about  thirty-five  years  of  age, 
told  me  that  he  was  arrested  the  first  time  at  the  age  of  nine- 
teen, while  in  the  university;  and  that  he  had  been  under 
police  surveillance,  in  prison,  or  in  exile  nearly  all  his  life. 
He  was  held  four  years  and  three  months  in  solitary  con- 
finement before  trial,  and  spent  twenty  months  of  that 
time  in  a  casemate  of  the  Petropavlovsk  fortress.  For  pro- 
testing against  illegal  treatment  in  that  great  state-prison, 
and  for  insisting  pertinaciously  upon  his  right  to  have  pen, 
ink,  and  paper,  in  order  that  he  might  address  a  complaint 
to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  he  was  tied  hand  and  foot, 
and  was  finally  put  into  a  strait- jacket.  He  thereupon 
refused  to  take  food,  and  starved  himself  until  the  prison 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  323 

surgeon  reported  that  his  condition  was  becoming  critical. 
The  warden,  Colonel  Bogarodski,  then  yielded,  and  fm^nished 
him  with  writing  materials,  but  no  reply  was  ever  made  to 
the  complaint  that  he  drew  up.  He  was  finally  tried  with 
"the  193,"  in  1878,  upon  the  charge  of  importing  pernicious 
books,  was  found  guilty,  and  was  sentenced  to  five  years  of 
penal  servitude,  with  deprivation  of  all  civil  rights.  In 
view,  however,  of  the  length  of  time  that  he  had  already 
been  held  in  solitary  confinement  while  awaiting  trial — 
four  years  and  three  months — the  court  recommended  to 
the  Tsar  that  his  sentence  be  commuted  to  exile  in  Western 
Siberia  for  life.' 

Most  men  would  have  been  completely  broken  down  by 
nearly  five  years  of  solitary  confinement  and  seven  years  of 
exile;  but  Mr.  Chudnof ski's  energy  and  courage  were  in- 
vincible. In  spite  of  the  most  disheartening  obstacles  he 
completed  his  education,  and  made  a  name  and  career  for 
himself  even  in  Siberia.  He  is  the  author  of  the  excellent 
and  carefully  prepared  history  of  the  development  of  edu- 
cational institutions  in  Siberia,  published  in  the  "  Official 
Year  Book  "  of  the  province  of  Tomsk  for  1885;  he  has  made 
two  scientific  expeditions  to  the  Altai  under  the  auspices  of 
the  West-Siberian  Branch  of  the  Imperial  Geographical 
Society;  he  has  been  an  indefatigable  contributor  to  the 
Russian  periodical  press ;  and  his  book  upon  the  Siberian 
province  of  Yeniseisk  took  the  prize  offered  by  the  Kras- 
noyarsk city  council  for  the  best  work  upon  that  subject.^ 
Mr.  Chudnof  ski  impressed  me  as  a  man  who,  if  he  had  been 
born  in  America,  might  have  had  a  career  of  usefulness  and 
distinction,  and  might  have  been  an  honor  to  the  state. 

1  Sentence  in  the  trial  of  "  the  193,"  The  value  of  Mr,  Chudnofski's  book 

pp.  5,  11,  and  16.     An  official  copy  of  was  greatly  impaired  by  censorial  mu- 

the  document  is  in  my  possession.  tilation,   and   the    last    two    chapters 

2 "The    Province    of    Yeniseisk,    a  could  not  be  printed  at  all;  but  even 

Statistical     and     Politico-Economical  in  its   expurgated  form  it  is  acknow- 

Study,"  by  S.  Chudnofski,  195  pages,  ledged  to  be  one  of  the  most  important 

Press  of  the  Siberian  Gazette,  Tomsk,  works  of  the  kind  that  Siberia  has  yet 

i885.  produced. 


324  SIBERIA 

He  happened  to  be  born  in  Russia,  and  was  therefore  pre- 
destined to  imprisonment  and  exile. 

Among  the  most  interesting  of  the  newly  arrived  political 
exiles  in  Tomsk  was  Mr.  Constantine  Staninkovich,  the 
editor   and   proprietor   of    the   Russian    magazine   DielOy 


PBINCE    KROp6tKIN. 

whose  history  I  gave  briefly  in  Chapter  XI  ["Exile  by  Ad- 
ministrative Process,"  p.  243].  He  was  a  close  and  accurate 
observer  of  Russian  social  life,  a  talented  novelist,  a  writer 
of  successful  dramas,  and  a  man  of  great  force,  energy,  and 
ability.  His  wife,  who  had  accompanied  him  to  Siberia, 
spoke  English  fluently  with  the  least  perceptible  accent,  and 
seemed  to  me  to  be  a  woman  of  more  than  ordinary  culture 
and  refinement.  They  had  one  grown  daughter,  a  pretty, 
intelligent  girl  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  of  age,  as  well 
as  two  or  three  younger  children,  and  the  whole  family  made 
upon  us  an  extremely  pleasant  impression.     Some  of  the 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  325 

most  delightful  evenings  that  we  had  in  Tomsk  were  spent 
in  their  cozy  little  parlor,  where  we  sometimes  sat  until 
long  after  midnight  listening  to  duets  sung  by  Miss  Staniu- 
kovich  and  Prince  Kropotkin ;  discussing  Russian  methods 
of  government  and  the  exile  system ;  or  comparing  our  im- 
pressions of  London,  Paris,  Berlin,  New  York,  and  San 
Francisco.  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Staniukovich  had  traveled 
in  the  United  States,  and  it  seemed  not  a  little  strange  to 
find  in  their  house  in  Siberia  visiting-cards  of  such  well- 
known  American  officers  as  Captain  James  B.  Eads  and 
Captain  John  Rodgers,  a  photograph  of  President  Lincoln, 
and  Indian  bead  and  birch-bark  work  in  the  shape  of 
slippers  and  toy  canoes  brought  as  souvenirs  from  Niagara 
Falls.  We  had  not  expected  to  find  ourselves  linked  to 
political  exiles  in  Siberia  by  such  a  multitude  of  common 
experiences  and  memories,  nor  to  be  shown  in  their  houses 
such  familiar  things  as  bead-embroidered  moccasins  and 
birch-bark  watch-pockets  made  by  the  Tonawanda  Indians. 
Mr.  Staniukovich  was  struggling  hard,  by  means  of  literary 
work,  to  support  his  family  in  exile ;  and  his  wife,  who  was 
an  accomplished  musician,  aided  him  as  far  as  possible  by 
giving  music  lessons. 

I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  say  that,  since  my  return  to  the 
United  States,  Mr.  Staniukovich  has  completed  his  term  of 
exile,  has  left  the  empire,  and  when  I  last  heard  of  him  was 
in  Paris.  He  continues  to  write  indefatigably  for  the  Rus- 
sian periodicals,  and  has  recently  published  a  volume  of 
collected  sketches  entitled  "Stories  of  the  Sea." 

Another  political  exile  in  whom  I  became  deeply  in- 
terested at  Tomsk  was  Prince  Alexander  Kropotkin, 
brother  of  the  well-known  author  and  socialist  who  now 
resides  in  London.  As  his  history  clearly  illustrates  certain 
phases  of  political  exile  life  I  will  briefly  relate  it. 

Although  banished  to  Siberia  upon  the  charge  of  disloy- 
alty Kropotkin  was  not  a  nihilist,  nor  a  revolutionist,  nor 
even  an  extreme  radical.     His  views  with  regard  to  social 


326  SIBERIA 

and  political  questions  would  have  been  regarded  in  Amer- 
ica, or  even  in  western  Europe,  as  very  moderate,  and 
he  liad  never  taken  any  part  in  Russian  revolutionary 
agitation.  He  was,  however,  a  man  of  impetuous  temper- 
ament, high  standard  of  honor,  and  great  frankness  and 
directness  of  speech ;  and  these  characteristics  were  perhaps 
enough  to  attract  to  him  the  suspicious  attention  of  the 
Russian  police. 

"I  am  not  a  nihilist  nor  a  revolutionist,"  he  once  said  to 
me  indignantly,  "and  I  never  have  been.  I  was  exiled 
simply  because  I  dared  to  think,  and  to  say  what  I  thought, 
about  the  things  that  happened  around  me,  and  because  I 
was  the  brother  of  a  man  whom  the  Russian  Government 
hated." 

Prince  Kropotkin  was  arrested  the  first  time  in  1858, 
while  a  student  in  the  St.  Petersburg  University,  for  hav- 
ing in  his  possession  a  copy  in  English  of  Emerson's  "  Self- 
Reliance"  and  refusing  to  say  where  he  obtained  it.  The 
book  had  been  lent  to  him  by  one  of  the  faculty,  Professor 
Tikhonravof,  and  Kropotkin  might  perhaps  have  justified 
himself  and  escaped  unpleasant  consequences  by  simply 
stating  the  fact;  but  this  would  not  have  been  in  accor- 
dance with  his  high  standard  of  personal  honor.  He  did  not 
think  it  a  crime  to  read  Emerson,  but  he  did  regard  it  as 
cowardly  and  dishonorable  to  shelter  himself  from  the  con- 
sequences of  any  action  behind  the  person  of  an  instructor. 
He  preferred  to  go  to  prison.  When  Professor  Tikhonravof 
heard  of  Kropotkin's  arrest  he  went  at  once  to  the  rector 
of  the  university,  and  admitted  that  he  was  the  owner  of 
the  incendiary  volume,  and  the  young  student  was  thereupon 
released. 

After  his  graduation  from  the  university  Kropotkin  went 
abroad,  studied  science,  particularly  astronomy,  and  upon 
his  return  to  Russia  made  a  number  of  important  transla- 
tions of  French  and  English  scientific  works  into  his  native 
language.    Finally  he  entered  the  Government  service,  and 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  327 

for  a  time  previous  to  his  exile  held  an  important  place  in 
the  Russian  telegraph  department.  This  place,  however, 
he  was  forced  to  resign  in  consequence  of  a  collision  with 
the  Minister  of  the  Interior.  The  latter  ordered  Kropotkin 
one  day  to  send  to  him  all  the  telegi*ams  of  a  certain  private 
individual  that  were  on  file  in  his  office.  Kropotkin  refused 
to  obey  this  order  upon  the  ground  that  such  action  would 
be  personally  dishonorable  and  degrading.  Another  less 
scrupulous  officer  of  the  department,  however,  forwarded 
the  required  telegrams  and  Kropotkin  resigned.  After  this 
time  he  lived  constantly  under  the  secret  supervision  of  the 
police.  His  brother  Peter  had  already  become  prominent 
as  a  revolutionist  and  socialist ;  he  himself  was  under  sus- 
picion ;  his  record,  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  Grovern- 
ment,  was  not  a  good  one;  he  probably  injured  himself 
still  further  by  frank  but  injudicious  comments  upon  public 
affairs;  and  in  1876  or  1877  he  was  arrested  and  exiled  to 
Eastern  Siberia  upon  the  vague  but  fatal  charge  of  "politi- 
cal untrustworthiness."  There  were  no  proofs  against  him 
upon  which  a  conviction  could  be  had  in  a  court  of  justice, 
and  he  was  therefore  banished  by  administrative  process. 

His  place  of  exile  was  a  small  town  called  Minusinsk, 
situated  on  the  Yenisei  River  in  Eastern  Siberia,  more  than 
3000  miles  from  St.  Petersburg,  and  about  150  miles  from 
the  boundary  line  of  Mongolia.  Here,  with  his  young  wife, 
who  had  voluntarily  accompanied  him  into  exile,  he  lived 
quietly  four  or  five  years,  devoting  himself  chiefly  to  read- 
ing and  scientific  study.  There  were  in  Minusinsk  at  that 
time  no  other  political  exiles,  but  Kropotkin  found  there, 
nevertheless,  one  congenial  companion  in  the  person  of  a 
Russian  naturalist  named  Martianof,  with  whom  he  wan- 
dered about  the  country  making  botanical  and  geological 
collections  and  discussing  scientific  questions.  To  Marti- 
anofs  enthusiasm  and  energy  and  Kropotkin's  sympathy 
and  encouragement,  Minusinsk  is  indebted  for  its  really  ex- 
cellent museum,  an  institution  which  not  only  is  the  pride 


328  SIBERIA 

of  all  intelligent   Siberians,  but  is   becoming  known  to 
uatnralists  and  archaeologists  in  Europe  and  the  United 

States. 

Durin^'-  the  long  series  of  tragic  events  that  culminated  in 
the  assassination  of  Alexander  II.,  Siberia  filled  up  rapidly 
with  political  exiles,  and  the  little  town  of  Minusinsk  had 
to  take  its  quota.  With  the  arrival  of  these  new-comers 
began  a  stricter  system  of  police  supervision.  As  long  as 
Kropotkin  was  the  only  political  exile  in  the  place,  he  was 
allowed  a  good  deal  of  freedom,  and  was  not  harassed  by 
humiliating  police  regulations;  but  when  the  number  of 
politicals  increased  to  twenty,  the  difficulty  of  watching 
them  all  became  greater,  and  the  authorities  thought  it 
necessary,  as  a  means  of  preventing  escapes,  to  require 
every  exile  to  report  himself  at  stated  intervals  to  the  chief 
of  police  and  sign  his  name  in  a  book  kept  for  the  purpose. 
To  this  regulation  Kropotkin  refused  to  submit.  "I  have 
lived  here,"  he  said  to  the  isprdvnlk,  "nearly  five  years  and 
have  not  yet  made  the  first  attempt  to  escape.  If  you  think 
that  there  is  any  danger  of  my  running  away  now,  you  may 
send  a  soldier  or  a  police  officer  to  my  house  every  day  to 
watch  me;  but  after  being  unjustly  exiled  to  Siberia  I  don't 
propose  to  assist  the  Government  in  its  supervision  of  me. 
I  will  not  report  at  the  police  office."  The  isprdvnik  con- 
ferred with  the  governor  of  the  province,  who  lived  in 
Krasnoyarsk,  and  by  the  latter's  direction  told  Kropotkin 
that  if  he  refused  to  obey  the  obnoxious  regulation  he  would 
be  banished  to  some  place  lying  farther  to  the  northward  and 
eastward,  where  the  climate  would  be  more  severe  and  the 
life  less  bearable.  Kropotkin,  however,  adhered  to  his  de- 
termination, and  appealed  to  General  Shelashnikof,  who  was 
at  that  time  the  acting  governor-general  of  Eastern  Siberia 
and  who  had  been  on  terms  of  personal  friendship  with 
Kropotkin  before  the  latter's  banishment.  General  Shelash- 
nikof replied  in  a  cool,  formal  note,  insisting  upon  obedi- 
ence to  the  regulation,  and  warning  Kropotkin  that  further 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  329 

contumacy  would  have  for  him  disastrous  consequences. 
While  this  appeal  was  pending,  General  Anuchin  was  ap- 
pointed governor-general  of  Eastern  Siberia,  and,  as  a  last 
resort,  Kropotkiu  wrote  to  his  aged  mother  in  St.  Peters- 
burg to  see  Anuchin  previous  to  the  latter's  departure  for  his 
new  post  and  present  to  him  a  petition  in  her  son's  behalf. 
When  the  aged  and  heart-broken  mother  appeared  with 
her  petition  in  General  Anuchin's  reception-room  she  was 
treated  with  insulting  brutality.  Without  reading  the  peti- 
tion Anuchin  threw  it  violently  on  the  floor,  asked  her  how 
she  dared  to  come  to  him  with  such  a  petition  from  a 
traitor  to  his  country,  and  declared  that  if  her  son  "  had 
his  deserts  he  would  be  cleaning  the  streets  in  some 
Siberian  city  under  guard,  instead  of  walking  about  at 
liberty." 

By  this  time  all  of  the  other  political  exiles  in  Minu- 
sinsk had  submitted  to  the  new  regulation  and  were  report- 
ing at  the  police  office,  and  Kropotkin  was  notified  by  the 
isprdvnik  that  if  within  a  stated  time  he  did  not  follow  their 
example  he  would  be  banished  to  Turukhansk,  a  wretched 
settlement  of  twelve  or  fifteen  houses,  situated  in  the 
province  of  Yeniseisk,  near  the  coast  of  the  arctic  ocean. 
Kropotkin,  however,  still  adhered  to  his  resolution,  and 
after  a  terribly  trying  interview  with  his  wife,  to  whom  he 
was  devotedly  attached,  he  succeeded  in  extorting  from  her 
a  promise  to  return  to  European  Russia  with  their  young 
child,  and  let  him  go  to  Turukhansk  alone.  What  this 
promise  cost  them  both  in  misery  I  could  imagine  from 
the  tears  which  suffused  their  eyes  when  they  talked  to 
me  about  it.  At  the  last  moment,  however,  while  Mrs.  Kro- 
potkin was  making  preparations  to  return  to  European 
Russia,  she  happened  to  see  in  the  Siberian  Gazette  a 
letter  from  some  correspondent — a  political  exile,  I  think 
— in  Turukhansk,  describing  the  loneliness,  dreariness,  and 
unhealthfulness  of  the  settlement,  the  arctic  severity  of  the 
climate,  the  absence  of  all  medical  aid  for  the  sick,  and  the 


330  SIBERIA 

many  miseries  of  life  in  such  a  place.  This  completely 
broke  down  the  wife's  fortitude.  She  went  to  her  husband, 
convulsed  with  sobs,  and  told  him  that  she  would  send  her 
child  to  European  Eussia,  or  leave  it  with  friends  in  Minu- 
sinsk, but  go  with  him  to  Turukhansk  she  must  and  should 

to  let   him   go   there  alone  was  beyond  her  strength. 

''xVfter  this,"  said  Prince  Kropotkin,  "there  was  nothing 
for  me  to  do  but  put  a  pistol  to  my  head,  or  yield,  and  I 
yielded.  I  went  to  the  police  office,  and  continued  to 
report  there  as  long  as  I  remained  in  Minusinsk." 

I  have  related  this  incident  in  Prince  Kropotkin's  Sibe- 
rian life  partly  because  it  seems  to  have  first  suggested 
suicide  to  him  as  a  means  of  escape  from  an  intolerable 
position,  and  partly  because  it  is  in  many  ways  an  index 
to  his  character.  He  was  extremely  sensitive,  proud,  and 
high-spirited,  and  often  made  a  fight  upon  some  point 
which  a  cooler,  more  philosophic  man  would  have  taken 
as  one  of  the  natural  incidents  of  his  situation. 

About  two  years  ago  Prince  Kropotkin  was  transferred 
from  Minusinsk  to  Tomsk,  a  change  which  brought  him 
a  few  hundred  miles  nearer  to  European  Eussia,  but  which 
in  other  respects  was  not  perhaps  a  desirable  one.  When 
I  saw  him  in  February  he  was  living  simply  but  comfort- 
ably in  a  rather  spacious  log  house,  ten  minutes'  drive  from 
the  European  Hotel,  and  was  devoting  himself  to  literary 
pursuits.  He  had  a  good  working  library  of  two  or  three 
hundred  volumes,  among  which  I  noticed  the  astronomical 
works  of  Professors  Newcomb  and  Holden,  Stallo's  "  Con- 
cepts of  Science,"  of  which  he  expressed  a  very  high  opin- 
ion, several  volumes  of  "  Smithsonian  Eeports,"  and  forty  or 
fifty  other  American  books.  His  favorite  study  was  astron- 
omy, and  in  this  branch  of  science  he  would  probably  have 
distinguished  himself  under  more  favorable  circumstances. 
After  his  exile,  however,  he  was  not  only  deprived  of  in- 
struments, but  had  great  difficulty  in  obtaining  books ;  his 
private  correspondence  was  under  control,  and  he  was  more 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  331 

or  less  constantly  disquieted  and  harassed  by  police  super- 
vision and  searches  of  his  house;  so  that  his  completed 
scientific  work  was  limited  to  a  few  articles  upon  astro- 
nomical subjects,  written  for  French  and  German  periodi- 
cals. He  was  a  fine  hnguist,  and  wrote  almost  equally  well 
in  French,  G-erman,  and  Russian.  English  he  read  easily 
but  could  not  speak. 

On  the  last  day  before  my  departure  from  Tomsk  he 
came  to  my  room,  bringing  a  letter  which  I  had  promised 
to  carry  for  him  to  one  of  his  intimate  friends  in  western 
Europe.  With  the  keen  sense  of  honor  which  was  one  of 
his  distinguishing  characteristics,  he  brought  the  letter  to 
me  open,  so  that  I  might  assure  myself  by  reading  it  that  it 
contained  nothing  which  would  compromise-  me  in  case  the 
Eussian  police  should  find  it  in  my  possession.  I  told  him 
that  I  did  not  care  to  read  it,  that  I  would  run  the  risk  of  car- 
rying anything  that  he  would  run  the  risk  of  wi'iting — his 
danger  in  any  case  would  be  greater  than  mine.  He  there- 
upon seated  himself  at  my  writing-table  to  address  the 
envelope.  We  happened  at  the  moment  to  be  talking  of 
his  brother,  Pierre  Kropotkin,  and  his  pen,  taking  its  sug- 
gestion from  his  thoughts,  wrote  automatically  upon  the 
envelope  his  brother's  name  instead  of  the  name  of  the 
person  for  whom  the  letter  was  intended.  He  discovered 
the  error  almost  instantly,  and  tearing  up  the  envelope 
and  throwing  the  fragments  upon  the  floor,  he  addi'essed 
another.  Late  that  evening,  after  I  had  gone  to  bed,  there 
came  a  knock  at  my  door.  I  opened  it  cautiously,  and  was 
confronted  by  Prince  Kropotkin.  He  was  embarrassed  and 
confused,  and  apologized  for  calUng  at  that  late  horn-,  but 
said  that  he  could  not  sleep  without  finding  and  destroying 
every  fragment  of  the  envelope  upon  which  he  had  inad- 
vertently written  the  name  of  his  brother.  "  This  may  seem 
to  you,"  he  said,  "like  absurd  timidity,  but  it  is  necessary. 
If  the  police  should  discover,  as  they  probably  will,  that  I 
visited  you  to-day,  they  would  not  only  examine  the  servants 


332  SIBERIA 

as  to  everythiug  which  took  place  here,  but  would  collect 
tiiul  tit  toi^othev  every  scrap  of  waste  paper  found  in  your 
room.     They  would  thus  tiiid  out  that  I  had  addressed  an 
envelope  to  my  brother,  and  would  jump  at  the  conclusion 
that  I  had  written  him  a  letter,  and  had  given  it  to  you  for 
delivery.     How  this  would  atfect  you  I  don't  know,  but  it 
would  be  fatal  to  me.     The  least  I  could  expect  would  be 
the  addition  of  a  year  to  my  term  of  exile,  or  banishment 
to  some  more  remote  part  of  Siberia.     I  am  strictly  forbid- 
den to  communicate  with  my  brother,  and  have  not  heard 
directly  from  him  or  been  able  to  write  to  him  in  years."    I 
was  famiUar  enough  with  the  conditions  of  exile  life  in 
Siberia  to  see  the  force  of  these  statements,  and  we  began 
at  once  a  search  for  the  fragments  of  the  envelope.    Every 
scrap  of  paper  on  the  floor  was  carefully  examined,  but  the 
pieces  that  bore   the  dangerous   name,  "Pierre  A.  Kro- 
potkin,"  could  not  be  found.     At  last  my  traveling  com- 
panion, Mr.  Frost,  remembered  picking  up  some  torn  scraps 
of  paper  and  throwing  them  into  the  slop-basin.    We  then 
dabbled  in  the  basin  for  twenty  minutes  until  we  found  and 
burned  every  scrap  of  that  envelope  upon  which  there  was 
the  stroke  of  a  pen,  and  only  then  could  Prince  Kropotkin 
go  home  and  sleep.     "  Two  years  hence,"  he  said  to  me  as 
he  bade  me  good-night,  "  you  may  publish  this  as  an  illus- 
tration of  the  atmosphere  of  suspicion  and  apprehension 
in  which  political  exiles  live.     In  two  years  I  hope  to  be 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  Russian  police."    Poor  Kropotkin ! 
In  less  than  two,  years  his  hope  was  realized,  but  not  in 
the  way  we  then  anticipated.    I  had  hardly  returned  to  my 
home  in  the  United  States  when  the  Eastern  Review  of  St. 
Petersburg,  a  newspaper  devoted  to  the  interests  and  the 
news    of    Asiatic   Russia,   made   the  following  brief  an- 
nouncement : 

''  On  the  25th  of  July,  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  Prince 
A.  A.  Kropotkin  committed  suicide  in  Tomsk  by  shooting  himself 
with  a  revolver.     He  had  been  in  administrative  exile  about  ten 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  333 

years,  and  his  term  of  banishment  would  have  expired  on  the  9th 
of  next  September.  He  had  begun  to  make  arrangements  for  re- 
turning to  Russia,  and  had  already  sent  his  wife  and  his  three 
children  back  to  his  relatives  in  the  province  of  Kharkof .  He  was 
devotedly  attached  to  them,  and  soon  after  their  departure  he  grew 
lonely  and  low-spirited,  and  showed  that  he  felt  very  deeply  his 
separation  from  them.  To  this  reason  for  despondency  must  also 
be  added  anxiety  with  regard  to  the  means  of  subsistence.  Al- 
though, at  one  time,  a  rather  wealthy  landed  proprietor,  Prince 
Kropotkin,  during  his  long  period  of  exile  in  Siberia,  had  expended 
almost  his  whole  fortune;  so  that  on  the  day  of  his  death  his  entire 
property  did  not  amount  to  three  hundred  rubles  [$150].  At  the 
age  of  forty-five,  therefore,  he  was  compelled,  for  the  first  time, 
seriously  to  consider  the  question  how  he  should  live  and  support 
his  family — a  question  which  was  the  more  difficult  to  answer  for 
the  reason  that  a  scientific  man,  in  Russia,  cannot  count  upon 
earning  a  great  deal  in  the  field  of  literature,  and  Prince  Kj-opot- 
kin  was  not  fitted  for  anything  else.  While  under  the  dishearten- 
ing influence  of  these  considerations  he  received,  moreover,  several 
telegrams  from  his  relatives  which  he  misinterpreted.  Whether 
he  committed  suicide  as  a  result  of  sane  deliberation,  or  whether 
a  combination  of  circumstances  superinduced  acute  mental  dis- 
order, none  who  were  near  him  at  the  moment  of  his  death  can 
say."     Eastern  Review,  No.  34,  St.  Petersbm-g,  August  21,  1886. 

Of  course  the  editor  of  the  Eastern  Beview  was  not  allowed 
by  the  censor  to  say  even  one  last  kind  word  of  the  inno- 
cent man  who  had  been  driven  to  self-destruction  by  in- 
justice and  exile;  but  I  will  say— and  say  it  with  all  my 
heart— that  in  Prince  Kropotkin's  death  Russia  lost  an 
honest  man,  a  cultivated  scholar,  a  true  patriot,  and  a  most 
gallant  gentleman. 

To  me  perhaps  the  most  attractive  and  sympathetic  of 
the  Tomsk  exiles  was  the  Russian  author  Felix  Volkhof  ski, 
who  was  banished  to  Siberia  for  life  in  1878,  upon  the 
charge  of  "  belonging  to  a  society  that  intends,  at  a  more 
or  less  remote  time  in  the  future,  to  overthrow  the  existing 
form  of  government."  He  was  about  thirty-eight  years  of 
age  at  the  time  I  made  his  acquaintance,  and  was  a  man  of 


;^34  SIBERIA 

cultivated  miiul,  warm  lienrt,  nnd  liicjli  aspirations.  He 
knew  English  well,  was  familiur  with  Aiiun'i(»aii  history  and 
literature,  and  had,  I  believe,  translated  into  Russian  many 
of  the  poems  of  Longfellow.  He  spoke  to  me  with  great 
admiration,  I  i-emember,  of  Longfellow's  "Arsenal  at 
Spriugtield,"  and  recited  it  to  me  aloud.  He  was  one  of 
the  most  winning  and  lovable  men  that  it  has  ever  been 
m}^  good  fortune  to  know;  but  his  life  had  been  a  terriV^le 
tragedy.  His  health  had  been  shattered  by  long  imprison- 
ment in  the  fortress  of  Petropavlovsk ;  his  hair  was  prema- 
turely gray,  and  when  his  face  was  in  repose  there  seemed 
to  be  an  expression  of  profound  melancholy  in  his  dark- 
brown  eyes.  I  became  intimately  acquainted  with  him  and 
very  warmly  attached  to  him ;  and  when  I  bade  him  good- 
by  for  the  last  time  on  my  return  from  Eastern  Siberia  in 
1886,  he  put  his  arms  around  me  and  kissed  me,  and  said, 
"  George  Ivanovich,  i)lease  don't  forget  us !  In  bidding 
you  good-by,  I  feel  as  if  something  were  going  out  of  my 
life  that  would  never  again  come  into  it." 

A  little  more  than  a  year  after  my  return  to  the  United 
States,  Volkhofski  wrote  me  a  profoundly  sad  and  touch- 
ing letter,  in  which  he  informed  me  of  the  death  of  his 
wife  by  suicide.  He  himself  had  been  thrown  out  of  em- 
ployment by  the  suspension  of  the  liberal  Tomsk  news- 
paper, the  Siberian  Gazette;  and  his  wife,  whom  I  re- 
member as  a  pale,  delicate,  sad-faced  woman,  twenty-five 
or  thirty  years  of  age,  had  tried  to  help  him  support  their 
family  of  young  children  by  giving  private  lessons  and 
by  taking  in  sewing.  Anxiety  and  overwork  had  finally 
broken  down  her  health ;  she  had  become  an  invalid,  and 
in  a  morbid  state  of  mind,  brought  on  by  unhappiness  and 
disease,  she  reasoned  herself  into  the  belief  that  she  was  an 
incumbrance,  rather  than  a  help,  to  her  husband  and  her 
children,  and  that  they  would  ultimately  be  better  off  if 
she  were  dead.  On  the  7th  of  December,  1887,  she  put  an 
end  to  her  unhappy  life  by  shooting  herself  through  the 


THE    LIFE    OF   POLITIC.VL    EXILES  335 

head  with  a  pistol.  Her  hiisbaud  was  devotedly  attached 
to  her ;  and  her  death,  under  such  cii'cumstauces  and  iu 
such  a  way,  was  a  terrible  blow  to  him.  Iu  his  letter  to  me 
he  refen-ed  to  a  copy  of  James  Russell  Lowell's  poems  that 
I  had  caused  to  be  sent  to  him,  and  said  that  in  reading 
''After  the  Burial"  he  vividly  realized  for  the  fii-st  time 
that  grief  is  of  no  nationahty :  the  lines,  although  wi-itteu 
by  a  bereaved  American,  expressed  the  deepest  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  a  bereaved  Russian.  He  sent  me  with  his 
letter  a  small,  worn,  leather  match-box,  which  had  been 
given  by  Prince  Pierre  Kropotkiu  to  his  exiled  brother 
Alexander:  which  the  latter  had  left  to  Yolkhofski;  and 
which  Yolkhofski  had  iu  tuni  presented  to  his  wife  a  short 
time  before  her  death.  He  hoped,  he  said,  that  it  would 
have  some  value  to  me,  on  account  of  its  association  with 
the  hves  of  four  political  offenders,  all  of  whom  I  had 
known.  One  of  them  was  a  refugee  in  London,  another 
was  an  exile  in  Tomsk,  and  two  had  escaped  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  Russian  Government  by  taking  their  own  lives. 

I  tried  to  read  Volkhof  ski's  letter  aloud  to  my  wife ;  but  as 
I  recalled  the  high  character  and  lovable  personality  of  the 
writer,  and  imagined  what  this  last  blow  of  fate  must  have 
been  to  such  a  man, —  in  exile,  in  broken  health,  and  with 
three  helpless  children  wholly  dependent  upon  him, —  the 
written  lines  vanished  in  a  mist  of  tears,  and  with  a  choking 
in  my  throat  I  put  the  letter  and  the  little  match-box  away. 

By  means  of  secret  prearranged  addresses  in  Russia  and 
in  the  United  States,  I  succeeded  in  maintaining  a  desul- 
tory and  precaidous  coiTespondence  with  ^h\  ^  olkhofski 
until  1S89.  In  the  spring  of  that  year  I  received  from  him 
two  short  letters  filled  with  tidings  of  misfortune,  and  then — 
nothing  more.     The  two  letters  were,  in  part,  as  follows : 

Tomsk.  February  14,  18S9. 
My  DEAR  George  Ivaxovich  : 

I  write  you  a  few  lines  first  to  tell  you  how  weary  I  am  of  waiting 
for  a  letter  fi-oni  you  (although  I  know  that  you  have  not  written 


336  SIBERIA 

on  aeeonut  of  my  warning]:),  and  second  to  gwo  yon  notice  that  I 
sent  yon  some  time  since  a  mannscript  addressed  ...  so  that 
if  you  have  not  received  it  you  may  make  inquiries  about  it. 

You  have  probably  heard  before  this  time  of  the  final  suppres- 
sion of  the  /Siberian  Gazette.^  It  is  hard  and  it  is  shameful !  You 
need  not  hesitate  any  longer  to  write  whatever  you  like  about  it 
for  publication.  You  will  not  injure  the  paper  because  there  is  no 
hope  of  its  resurrection.     .     .     . 

My  youngest  daughter  is  still  si(?k  and  has  grown  so  thin  that  it 
is  painful  to  look  at  her.  8he  sleeps  badly  and  often  I  have  to  be 
up  all  night  taking  care  of  her.  This,  together  with  constant  fear 
for  h(n-  life,  disorders  my  nerves  terribly,  and  undermines  what 
health  I  have  left.  I  am  greatly  disheartened,  too,  by  loneliness, 
notwithstanding  my  children  and  my  friends.  The  affectionate 
tenderness  of  a  beloved  wife  is  a  thing  that  some  natures  find  it 
difficult  to  do  without,  no  matter  what  else  they  may  have.  It  is 
very  hard,  sometimes,  my  dear  fellow,  to  live  in  this  world ! 

Since  it  became  apparent  that  I  should  no  longer  be  able  to  sup- 
port myself  by  newspaper  work,^  I  have  been  looking  for  some 
other  occupation  or  place;  but,  unfortunately,  the  present  gov- 
ernor ^  is  expelling  political  exiles  from  aU  public  positions,  and 
even  debarring  them,  to  some  extent,  from  private  employment,  by 
showing  such  hostility  to  them  that  private  individuals  dare  not 
give  them  work  for  fear  of  getting  into  trouble.  I  do  not  know 
how  it  will  all  end.  I  have  sent  four  manuscripts  to  St.  Peters- 
burg, but  none  of  them  has  been  published. 

My  dear  George  Ivanovich,  may  you  be  well  and  happy  !  I  am 
impatiently  awaiting  your  photograph  and  hope  that  it  will  have 
your  autograph  on  it.  With  most  cordial  remembrances  to  your 
wife,  I  am  Yours,  Felix. 

1  The  Siberian  Gazette,  the  only  lib-  publication  by  it  of  an  obituary  notice 

eral    and    progressive    newspaper    in  of  a  political  exile  named  Zabaluief, 

Western   Siberia,   was   suspended  for  whose  life  and  character  had  won  the 

eight  months  on  the  3d  of  April,  1887,  respect  of  everybody  in  Tomsk, 

as  the  result  of  a  secret  report  made  2  On  account  of  the  suppression  of 

by  the   Governor   of   Tobolsk   to   the  the  Siberian  Gazette.     Mr.  Volkhofski 

Minister  of  the  Interior.     It  survived  had  conducted  the  department  of  city 

this  blow,  but  was  finally  suppressed  news. 

altogether  in  the  latter  part  of  1888.  3  Governor  Bulubd,sh,  formerly  vice- 

The   only  reasons   assigned    for    this  governor  of  the  province  of  Taurida. 

persecution  of  an  able  and  honorable  His  predecessor.  Governor  Laks,  was  a 

newspaper  were  first,  the  use  by  it  of  comparatively  liberal  and  enlightened 

news  and  literary  material  furnished  man. 
by   political   exiles,   and   second,   the 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  337 

Irkutsk,  Eastern  Siberia,  May  7,  1889. 
My  dear  good  Friend: 

How  long  it  is  since  I  last  received  a  line  from  you,  and  how 
mucli  I  have  needed  your  letters !  They  bring  to  me  all  the  men- 
tal refreshment  and  all  the  gladness  that  life  has  for  me,  and  at 
times  I  am  sorely  in  need  of  them.  Fate  has  dealt  me  another 
blow.  My  youngest  daughter  Katie  died  a  month  or  two  since  of 
pneumonia.  She  had  an  attack  of  bronchitis  winter  before  last 
which  developed  into  chronic  inflammation  of  the  lungs  ;  but  in  the 
spring  of  1888  I  took  her  into  the  country,  where  she  grew  better 
and  began  to  run  about  and  play.  Unfortunately,  however,  she 
was  exposed  there  to  whooping-cough,  took  the  infection,  and  it 
ended  in  acute  pneumonia  and  death.  She  was  about  three  years 
old — and  such  a  dear  lovable  child  !  But  whose  child  is  not  dear 
and  lovable!    At  any  rate — 

No !  I  can't  wiite  any  more  about  it !  This  is  the  second  time 
within  a  few  days  that  I  have  tried  to  wi'ite  you  of  her  —  but  I  can- 
not— it  hurts  me  too  much  !  As  long  as  I  am  busy  and  can  talk  or 
write  of  other  things,  it  seems  as  if  the  wound  were  healed  ;  but  let 
ray  thoughts  once  go  to  her,  and  I  feel  such  grief  and  pain  that  I 
don't  know  what  to  do  with  myseK. 

I  must  explain  to  you  how  I  happen  to  be  in  Irkutsk.  It  is  a 
very  simple  story.  Thanks  to  the  recommendation  of  some  of  my 
Irkutsk  friends  I  was  offered  here  a  place  that  was  suited  to  my 
tastes  and  abilities,  and  I  hastened  to  migrate.  They  wiU  always 
know  my  address  here  at  the  post-office.^ 

All  of  your  Irkutsk  friends  send  you  their  regards.  I  could  and 
would  write  you  a  great  deal  more,  but  I  don't  want  to  detain  this 
letter  and  will  therefore  postpone  the  rest  until  next  time.  My 
warmest  regards  to  your  wife.     Write  me  ! 

Affectionately,  Felix. 

After  the  receipt  of  this  letter  I  wrote  Mr.  Volkhofski 
twice,  but  I  heard  from  him  no  more.  What  had  happened 
to  him  I  could  only  conjecture;  but  as  month  after  month 

3  When  political  offenders  sentenced  They  are  still  kept  under  police  sur- 

merelyto  "  domestication  "  [«a  shityo']  veillance,  but  are  allowed  to  go  any- 

or  colonization  [naposeUnie]  have  been  where   within   the    limits   of    certain 

ten  years  in  exile,  and  have  behaved  dur-  provinces.     After  I  returned  to   the 

ing  that  time  in  a  manner  satisfactory  United  States,  Mr.  Volkhofski  received 

to  the  authorities,  it  is  customary  to  a  "ticket  of  leave  "  of  this  kind. 
give  them  more  freedom  of  movement. 
09 


338  SIBERIA 

passed  witliout  bringing  any  news  from  him,  I  felt  more 
and  more  apprehensive  that  the  sorrows  and  hardships  of 
his  life  had  been  too  gi*eat  for  his  strength  and  that  the 
next  tidings  of  him  would  be  the  news  of  his  death.  At 
last,  in  November,  1889,  when  I  had  almost  given  up  hope, 
I  was  astonished  and  delighted  to  receive  one  day  a  letter 
addressed  in  his  familiar  handwriting,  but  stamped  with  a 
Canadian  stamp  and  postmarked  "  Vancouver." 

"How  did  he  ever  get  a  letter  mailed  at  Vancouver?"  I 
said  to  myself,  and  hastily  tearing  open  the  envelope  I  read 
the  first  three  lines.     They  were  as  follows : 

"  My  dear  George  Ivanovich :  At  last  I  am  free  !  I  am 
writing  this  letter  to  you  not  from  that  land  of  exile,  Siberia, 
but  from  free  America." 

If  I  had .  suddenly  received  a  letter  postmarked  "  Zanzi- 
bar "  from  a  friend  whom  I  believed  to  be  dead  and  buried 
in  Minnesota,  I  could  hardly  have  been  more  astonished  or 
excited.  Volkhofski  free  and  in  British  Columbia !  It 
seemed  utterly  incredible ;  and  in  a  maze  of  bewilderment 
I  stoj)ped  reading  the  letter  to  look  again  at  the  postmark. 
It  was  unquestionably  "  Vancouver,"  and  as  I  stared  at  it  I 
came  slowly  to  a  realization  of  the  fact  that,  in  some  extra- 
ordinary and  incomprehensible  way,  Volkhofski  had  not 
only  escaped,  but  had  crossed  the  Pacific  and  was  within  a 
few  days'  journey  of  New  York.  His  letter,  which  was  brief 
and  hurried,  merely  announced  his  escape  from  exile  by 
way  of  the  Amur  River,  Vladivostok,  and  Japan,  and  his 
intention  of  coming  to  me  in  Washington  as  soon  as  he 
could  be  sure  of  finding  me  there.  In  the  mean  time  I  need 
not,  he  said,  feel  any  anxiety  about  him,  because  he  still  had 
sixty  Mexican  silver  dollars  left,  and  was  with  a  steamer 
acquaintance  who  had  taken  a  warm  and  generous  interest 
in  his  fortunes. 

At  the  time  when  I  received  this  letter  I  was  lecturing  six 
nights  a  week  in  New  York  and  New  England ;  but  I  tele- 
graphed and  wrote  Volkhofski  that  I  would  meet  him  at 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  339 

the  Delavan  House  in  Albany  on  the  morning  of  Sunday, 
December  8th.  I  spoke  Saturday  night  in  Utica,  took  the 
night  express  for  Albany,  and  reached  the  Delavan  House 
about  two  o'clock.  Volkhofski  had  not  yet  arrived,  and  as 
it  was  uncertain  when  he  would  come  I  went  to  bed.  Early 
in  the  morning  a  bell-boy  knocked  loudly  at  my  door  and 
handed  me  a  slip  of  paper  upon  which,  in  Volkhofski's  hand- 
writing, were  the  words,  "  My  dear  fellow,  I  am  here." 

If  any  of  the  guests  of  the  Delavan  House  happened  to 
be  passing  through  that  corridor  on  their  way  to  breakfast 
three  minutes  later,  they  must  have  been  sui-prised  to  see, 
at  the  door  of  No.  90,  a  man  with  disheveled  hair  and  no- 
thing on  but  his  night-shirt  locked  in  the  embrace  of  a 
traveler  who  had  not  had  time  to  remove  his  Pacific-coast 
sombrero  and  heavy  winter  overcoat. 

Volkhofski  was  in  better  health  than  I  had  expected  to  see 
him,  but  his  face  was  worn  and  haggard,  and  at  times  there 
was  a  peculiar  anxious  hunted  expression  in  his  eyes  which 
showed  that  he  had  recently  been  under  gi^eat  mental  and 
emotional  strain.  We  talked  almost  without  intermission  for 
twelve  hours,  and  he  related  to  me  at  length  the  story  of  his 
escape.  When  he  wrote  me  the  last  time  from  Siberia  in 
May,  1889,  he  was  living  with  his  little  daughter  Vera  in 
Irkutsk,  where  he  had  found  congenial  employment,  and 
where  he  was  trying,  by  means  of  hard  work,  to  lighten  the 
sense  of  loneliness  and  bereavement  that  he  had  felt  since 
the  death  of  his  wife  and  his  daughter  Katie.  Hardly  had 
his  life  begun  to  seem  once  more  bearable  when  there  came 
upon  him  a  new  misfortune  in  the  shape  of  an  order  from  the 
governor-generar  to  leave  the  city.  He  had  committed  no 
new  offense,  and  there  was  no  reason,  so  far  as  he  was  aware, 
for  this  arbitrary  and  imperative  order;  but  General  Ignatief 
seemed  to  be  of  opinion  that  the  presence  of  a  liberal  author 
and  journalist,  and  moreover  a  "  political,"  in  the  city  of 

1  Governor-general  Ignatief,  brother  of  the  well-known  diplomatist.     He  is 
now  governor-general  of  Kiev. 


340  SIBERIA 

Irkutsk  would  be  "  prejudicial  to  public  tranquillitj^"  and 
\'olkh6t'ski  was  therefore  directed  to  "  move  on."  Leaving 
his  little  daughter  Vera  with  acquaintances  in  Irkutsk,  he 
proceeded  to  Troitskosavsk,  a  small  town  on  the  frontier  of 
Mongolia,  where  one  of  his  friends,  a  political  exile  named 
Charushin,  had  for  some  time  been  living.  The  police 
there,  however,  had  been  apprised  of  his  expulsion  from 
Irkutsk,  and  assuming,  of  course,  that  he  must  be  a  very 
dangerous  or  a  very  troublesome  man,  they  hastened  to 
inform  him  that  he  could  not  be  permitted  to  take  up  liis 
residence  in  Troitskosavsk.  They  did  not  care  whither  he 
went,  but  he  must  go  somewhere  beyond  the  limits  of  their 
jurisdiction.  Indignant  and  disheartened,  Volkhof ski  then 
resolved  to  abandon  temporarily  his  little  daughter  Vera, 
whom  he  had  left  in  Irkutsk,  and  make  his  escape,  if  pos- 
sible, to  the  United  States  by  way  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  He 
had  a  little  money  derived  from  the  sale  of  a  small  volume 
of  poems  which  he  had  published  before  leaving  Tomsk\  and 
if  that  should  fail  before  he  reached  his  destination,  he  de- 
termined to  work  as  a  stevedore,  or  a  common  laborer  of 
some  sort,  until  he  should  earn  enough  to  go  on.  His  ob- 
jective point  was  the  city  of  Washington,  where  he  expected 
to  find  me.  The  nearest  seaport  on  the  Pacific  where  he 
could  hope  to  get  on  board  a  foreign  steamer  was  Vladi- 
vostok, about  2800  miles  away.  The  distance  to  be  traversed 
under  the  eyes  of  a  suspicious  and  hostile  police  was  im- 
mense ;  but  Volkhof  ski  was  cautious,  prudent,  and  experi- 
enced, and  assuming  the  character  of  a  retired  army  officer 
he  set  out,  with  "  free  "  horses,  for  the  head  waters  of  the 
Amur  Eiver,  where  he  expected  to  take  a  steamer.  I  can- 
not, of  com^se,  go  into  the  details  of  his  difficult  and  perilous 
journey  from  Troitskosavsk  to  Stretinsk,  from  Stretinsk 
down  the  Amur  by  steamer  to  Khabarofka,  and  from  Khab- 
arofka  up  the  tJssuri  and  across  Lake  Khanka  to  Vladivos- 

1  "  Siberian  Echoes,"  by  Ivan  Brut  [a  pseudonym].   Mikhdilof  and  Makusbin, 
Tomsk,  1889. 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  341 

tok.  It  was  a  journey  full  of  adventures  and  narrow  escapes, 
and  nothing  but  the  coolness,  courage,  and  good  fortune  of 
the  fugitive  carried  him  through  in  safety.  There  were 
four  foreign  vessels  in  the  port  of  Vladivostok  at  that  time, 
and  one  of  them,  a  coal  steamer,  was  flying  the  flag  of  Great 
Britain.  Volkhofski  went  on  board,  ascertained  that  the 
steamer  was  bound  for  Japan,  and  asked  the  captain  if  he 
would  take  a  passenger  who  had  neither  passport  nor  official 
permission  to  leave  the  empire.  The  captain  hesitated  at 
first,  but  when  Volkhofski  related  his  story,  said  that  he 
was  able  and  willing  to  pay  for  his  passage,  and  exhibited 
my  photograph  and  letters  as  proofs  of  his  trustworthiness, 
the  captain  consented  to  take  him.  A  hiding-place  was  soon 
found  for  him,  and  when  the  Russian  officials  came  on  board 
to  clear  the  vessel,  he  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  A  few  hours 
later  the  steamer  was  at  sea,  and  the  escaping  political  exile, 
as  he  stood  on  the  upper  deck  and  watched  the  slow  fading 
of  the  Siberian  coast  in  the  west,  drew  a  long  deep  breath 
of  relief,  and  turned  his  face,  with  reviving  hope,  towards 
the  land  where  a  personal  opinion  concerning  human  affairs 
is  not  regarded  as  "  prejudicial  to  public  tranquillity,"  and 
where  a  man  who  tries  to  make  the  world  better  and  hap- 
pier is  not  punished  for  it  with  seven  years  of  solitary  con- 
finement, eleven  years  of  exile,  and  the  loss  of  more  than 
half  his  family. 

After  having  paid  his  steamer  fare  from  Vladivostok  to 
Nagasaki,  and  from  Nagasaki  to  Yokohama,  Volkhofski 
found  himself  in  the  latter  j)lace  with  hardly  money  enough 
to  get  across  the  Pacific,  and  not  half  enough  to  reach 
Washington.  He  made  inquiries  concerning  vessels  about 
to  sail  for  the  western  coast  of  America,  and  found  that  the 
English  steamer  Batavia  was  on  the  point  of  clearing  for 
Vancouver,  British  Columbia.  Groing  at  once  on  board  he 
asked  the  purser  what  the  fare  to  Vancouver  would  be  in 
the  steerage.  The  ofiicer  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  saw 
that,  although  a  foreigner,  he  was  unmistakably  a  gentle- 


342  SIBERIA 

man,  and  thou  replied,  bluntly  but  not  unkindly,  "You 
can't  go  in  the  steerage — it 's  jammed  full  of  Chinese  emi- 
grants. Nobody  ever  goes  in  the  steerage  except  Chinamen ; 
it 's  no  place  for  you."  Volkhofski  replied  that  the  case  was 
urgent  —  that  he  must  get  to  British  Columbia  at  once  — 
and  as  he  had  not  money  enough  to  pay  even  for  a  second- 
class  passage,  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  go  third 
class.  The  purser  finally  sold  him  a  steerage  ticket,  but 
declared,  nevertheless,  that  a  white  man  could  not  possibly 
live  for  three  weeks  with  opium-smoking  Chinese  coolies, 
and  that  he  should  put  him  in  some  other  part  of  the  ves- 
sel as  soon  as  possible  after  leaving  port. 

Until  the  Batavia  had  actually  sailed  and  was  out  of 
the  harbor,  Volkhofski  did  not  dare  to  let  the  passengers, 
or  even  the  officers,  of  the  steamer  know  who  he  really 
was  and  whence  he  had  come.  The  Japanese  were  in  the 
habit  of  giving  up  Siberian  refugees  to  the  Russian  author- 
ities ;  and  if  it  should  accidentally  become  known  that  he 
was  an  escaping  political  exile,  he  might  be  arrested,  even 
in  Yokohama,  and  put  on  board  a  Russian  man-of-war.  He 
believed  that  he  had  narrowly  escaped  detection  and  cap- 
ture in  Nagasaki,  and  he  did  not  intend  to  run  any  more 
risks  that  could  be  avoided.  At  last,  however,  when  the 
Batavia  was  far  at  sea,  and  the  coast  of  Japan  had  sunk 
beneath  the  rim  of  the  western  horizon,  he  told  his  story 
to  the  officers  of  the  ship,  and  afterward  admitted  to  the 
passengers  with  whom  he  became  acquainted  that  he  was 
an  escaped  political  exile  from  Siberia.  The  interest  and 
sympathy  excited  by  his  narrative  deepened  as  the  officers 
and  passengers  became  better  acquainted  with  him,  and 
long  before  the  Batavia  reached  Vancouver,  he  had  so 
completely  won  the  hearts  of  the  whole  ship's  company 
that  they  took  up  a  collection  for  the  purpose  of  providing 
him  with  transportation  from  Vancouver  to  the  city  of 
Washington.  To  this  collection  every  soul  on  board  con- 
tributed, from  the  captain  down  to  the  steward,  the  cook, 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  343 

and  the  boy  who  cleaned  the  ship's  lamps.'  More  than 
enough  money  was  obtained  to  defray  his  expenses  across 
the  continent,  and  when  he  left  the  steamer  he  had  not  only 
the  sixty  Mexican  silver  dollars  about  which  he  wrote  me, 
but  a  first-class  ticket  to  Washington,  and  a  cordial  invi- 
tation from  one  of  the  passengers  —  Mr.  Allan  Huber  of 
Berlin,  Ontario — to  stay  at  his  house  until  my  whereabouts 
could  be  ascertained. 

When  Volkhofski  met  me  in  Albany,  he  was  terribly 
anxious  with  regard  to  the  safety  of  his  nine-year-old 
daughter  Vera,  whom  he  had  left  with  friends  in  the  capital 
of  Eastern  Siberia.  He  feared  that,  as  soon  as  his  escape 
should  become  known,  the  Grovernment  would  seize  the 
little  girl,  and  either  use  her  as  a  means  of  compelling  him 
to  return  or  put  her  into  a  state  asylum,  where  she  would 
virtually  be  lost  to  him  forever. 

"  If  I  can  only  get  my  little  girl,"  he  said  to  me,  "  I  shall 
feel  as  if  I  had  strength  and  spirit  enough  to  begin  a  new 
life ;  but  if  I  lose  her,  I  may  as  well  give  up  the  struggle." 

"  We  '11  get  your  little  girl,"  I  replied,  "  if  we  have  to  re- 
sort to  fraud,  violence,  false  passports,  and  kidnapping" — 
and  we  did  get  her.  In  June,  1890,  Volkhofski  went  to 
London,  so  as  to  be  nearer  the  field  of  operations,  and  six 
weeks  later  I  received  from  him  a  cablegram  saying, 
"  Hurrah !  my  child  has  arrived." 

In  a  recent  letter  to  a  friend  in  Buffalo,  New  York, 
the  well-known  English  novelist,  Hesba  Stretton,  speaks 
of  Volkhofski  and  his  daughter  as  follows: 

"  Volkhofski,  who  escaped  from  Siberia  rather  more  than 
a  year  ago,  has  been  lecturing  in  England  all  winter.  He 
has  a  charming  little  daughter  ten  years  old  who  was  born 
in  exile.  She  has  been  staying  for  a  fortnight  with  my 
married  sister  and  her  two  daughters,  and  they  are  quite 

1  The  steward  beeame  so  much  at-  Montreal,  he  came  to  call  upon  me  for 
taehed  to  Volkhofski,  in  the  course  of  the  purpose  of  making  inquiries  about 
the   voyage,   that   long    afterward,  in    him. 


;U4  SIBERIA 

delighted  with  her ;  she  is  so  original  and  affectionate,  and 
she  has  had  so  much  tragedy  in  her  short  life,  which  she 
speaks  of  now  and  then  as  if  horrors  were  a  natural  part  of 
existence  to  her.  She  was  brought  through  Siberia  and 
Russia  disguised  as  a  boy.  We  hope  to  wean  her  thoughts 
from  these  terrible  subjects  and  give  her  something  of.,  the 
ordinary  joys  of  girlhood.  But  her  destiny  must  be  a  sad 
one,  for  she  will  surely  [and  quite  rightly]  throw  in  her  lot 
with  the  revolutionists  of  Russia,  and  unless  the  revo- 
lution comes  soon  our  little  Vera  will  spend  much  of  her 
life  in  prison  and  in  exile.  She  was  showing  Annie  how 
the  orthodox  Russians  hold  their  thumbs  and  tw^o  fingers 
pressed  together  to  represent  the  Trinity  during  their  wor- 
ship, and  then  she  said,  '  But  Grod  does  n't  mind  how  we 
hold  our  fingers,  does  he?'  She  was  moaning  in  her  sleep 
one  night,  and  when  Daisy  woke  her  she  said,  'I  dreamed 
there  were  spies  in  the  room,  and  I  pretended  to  be  asleep 
till  they  went  to  sleep,  and  then  I  got  up  and  crept  to  the 
cot  where  my  baby  brother  was.  I  said,  "Hush !  don't  make 
a  noise,  for  there  are  spies  in  the  room,"  and  I  took  him  up 
and  went  to  the  door  watching  the  spies  all  the  time,  and  I 
opened  the  door  and  there  were  some  men  hung  up,  and 
my  father's  head  lay  on  the  ground  and  his  body  was  a 
little  way  off  covered  with  a  white  cloth.'  Think  of  that 
for  the  dream  of  a  child  of  ten  years,  and  think  how  count- 
less are  the  sorrows  and  wrongs  inflicted  by  the  Czar  of 
Russia  and  his  Government !  And  they  say  he  is  a  humane, 
Christian  man.  Alas  !  what  horrible  things  are  said  to 
be  Christian." 

Mr.  Volkhofski  is  now  editing  in  London  the  newspaper 
Free  Russia,  the  organ  of  the  English  society  known  as 
"  The  Friends  of  Russian  Freedom." 

The  extension  of  our  acquaintance  in  Tomsk,  on  one  side 
with  Government  officials,  and  on  the  other  with  political 
exiles,  led  now  and  then  to  peculiar  and  embarrassing  situ- 
ations.    A  day  or  two  before  our  departure  for  Irkutsk, 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  345 

while  two  of  the  politicals  —  Messrs.  Volkhof ski  and  Chud- 
nofski — were  sitting  in  our  room  at  the  European  Hotel, 
a  servant  suddenly  knocked,  threw  open  the  door,  and  an- 
nounced his  Excellency  Actual  State  Councilor  Petukhof, 
the  governor  j>ro  tern,  of  the  province.  My  heart,  as  the  Rus- 
sians say,  went  into  my  fingers'  ends.  I  did  not  know  what 
relations  existed  between  the  banished  revolutionists  and 
Vice-governor  Petukhof.  We  had  called  several  times  upon 
the  latter  without  referring  in  any  way  to  our  acquaintance 
with  this  class  of  criminals ;  and  in  all  our  intercourse  with 
the  Tomsk  officials  we  had  treated  the  subject  of  political 
exile  with  studied  indifference,  in  order  to  avert  suspicion  and 
escape  troublesome  inquiries.  To  be  then  surprised  by  the 
vice-governor  himself  while  two  prominent  politicals  were 
sitting  in  our  room  and  writing  at  our  table  was,  to  say  the 
least,  embarrassing.  I  had  just  had  time  to  ask  Volkhof  ski 
and  Chudnofski  whether  or  not  I  should  introduce  them  to 
the  vice-governor,  when  the  latter,  in  full  uniform,  entered 
the  room.  There  was  a  curious  expression  of  surprise  in  his 
good-humored  face  as  he  took  in  at  a  glance  the  situation  ; 
but  the  removal  of  his  heavy  overcoat  and  galoshes  gave 
him  an  opportunity  to  recover  himself,  and  as  he  came  for- 
ward with  outstretched  hand  to  greet  Mr.  Frost  and  me 
there  was  nothing  in  his  manner  to  indicate  the  least  an- 
noyance or  embarrassment.  He  shook  hands  cordially  with 
the  two  political  exiles  who  had  been  condemned  by  a  court 
of  justice  to  penal  servitude ;  began  at  once  a  conversation 
in  which  they  could  join,  and  behaved  generally  with  so 
much  tact  and  courtesy,  that  in  five  minutes  we  were  all 
chatting  together  as  unceremoniously  as  if  we  were  old 
acquaintances  who  had  met  accidentally  at  a  club.  It  was, 
however,  a  strangely  constituted  group:  an  American 
newspaper  man;  an  American  artist;  two  political  exiles 
who  had  been  punished  with  solitary  confinement,  leg- 
fetters,  and  the  strait-jacket ;  and,  finally,  the  highest  pro- 
vincial representative  of  the  Government  that  had  so  dealt 


346  SIBERIA 

with  these  exiles — all  meeting  upon  the  common  footing  of 
personal  character,  and  ignoring,  for  the  time,  the  peculiar 
network  of  interrelations  that  united  them.  Whether  or  not 
Vice-governor  Petukhof  reported  to  the  Minister  of  the  In- 
terior that  we  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  political 
criminals  in  Tomsk,  I  do  not  know — probably  not.  He 
seemed  to  me  to  be  a  faithful  officer  of  the  Crown,  but,  at 
the  same  time,  a  man  of  culture,  ability,  and  good  sense; 
and  while  he  doubtless  disapproved  of  the  revolutionary 
movement,  he  recognized  the  fact  that  among  the  banished 
revolutionists  were  men  of  education,  refinement,  and  high 
personal  character,  who  might,  naturally  enough,  attract 
the  attention  of  foreign  travelers. 

The  number  of  politicals  in  Tomsk,  at  the  time  of  our  visit, 
was  about  thirty,  including  six  or  eight  women.  Some  of 
them  were  administrative  exiles,  who  had  only  just  arrived 
from  European  Russia;  some  were  i)oselents%  or  forced 
colonists,  who  had  been  banished  originally  to  "  the  most 
remote  part "  of  Siberia,  but  who  had  finally  been  allowed 
to  return  in  broken  health  to  a  "less  remote  part";  while 
a  few  were  survivors  of  the  famous  "  193,"  who  had  lan- 
guished for  years  in  the  casemates  of  the  Petropavlovsk 
fortress,  and  had  then  been  sent  to  the  plains  of  Western 
Siberia. 

I  was  struck  by  the  composure  with  which  these  exiles 
would  sometimes  talk  of  intolerable  injustice  and  frightful 
sufferings.  The  men  and  women  who  had  been  sent  to  the 
province  of  Yakutsk  for  refusing  to  take  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance to  Alexander  III.,  and  who  had  suffered  in  that  arctic 
wilderness  all  that  human  beings  can  suffer  from  hunger, 
cold,  sickness,  and  bereavement,  did  not  seem  to  be  con- 
scious that  there  was  anything  very  extraordinary  in  their 
experience.  Now  and  then  some  man  whose  wife  had  com- 
mitted suicide  in  exile  would  flush  a  little  and  clinch  his 
hands  as  he  spoke  of  her ;  or  some  broken-hearted  woman 
whose  baby  had  frozen  to  death  in  her  arms  on  the  road 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  347 

would  sob  at  intervals  as  she  tried  to  tell  me  her  story ; 
but,  as  a  rule,  both  men  and  women  referred  to  injustice 
and  suffering  with  perfect  composure,  as  if  they  were 
nothing  more  than  the  ordinary  accidents  of  life.  Mr. 
Volkhofski  showed  me  one  day,  I  remember,  a  large  collec- 
tion of  photographs  of  his  revolutionary  friends.  When- 
ever a  face  struck  me  as  being  noteworthy,  on  account  of 
its  beauty  or  character,  I  would  ask  whose  it  was. 

"  That,"  he  would  say  quietly,  "  is  Miss  A ,  once  a 

teacher  in  a  peasant  school ;  she  died  of  prison  consump- 
tion in  Kiev  three  years  ago.    The  man  with  the  full  beard 

is  B ,  formerly  a  justice  of  the  peace  in  N ;  he  was 

hanged  at  St.  Petersburg  in  1879.  The  thin-faced  girl  is 
Miss  C ,  one  of  the  so-called  propagandists ;  she  went  in- 
sane in  the  House  of  Preliminary  Detention  while  awaiting 
trial.     The  pretty  young  woman  with   the  cross  on  the 

sleeve  of  her  dress  is  Madame  D ,  a  Eed  Cross  nurse  in 

one  of  the  field  hospitals  during  the  late  Russo-Turkish 
war ;  she  was  sentenced  to  twenty  years  of  penal  servitude 
and  is  now  at  the  mines  of  Kara.    The  lady  opposite  her 

on  the  same  page  is  Miss  E ,  formerly  a  student  in  the 

Beztuzhef  medical  school  for  women  in  St.  Petersburg ;  she 
cut  her  throat  with  a  piece  of  broken  glass,  after  two  years 
of  solitary  confinement  in  the  fortress." 

In  this  way  Mr.  Volkhofski  went  through  his  whole  collec- 
tion of  photographs,  suggesting  or  sketching  hastily  in  a  few 
dry,  matter-of-fact  words  the  terrible  tragedies  in  which 
the  originals  of  the  portraits  had  been  actors.  He  did  not 
show  the  least  emotional  excitement,  and  from  his  manner 
it  might  have  been  supposed  that  it  was  the  commonest 
thing  in  the  world  for  one's  friends  to  be  hanged,  sent  to 
the  mines,  driven  insane  by  solitary  confinement,  or  tortured 
into  cutting  their  throats  with  broken  glass.  His  compo- 
sure, however,  was  not  insensibility,  nor  lack  of  sympathy. 
It  was  rather  the  natural  result  of  long  familiarity  with 
such  tragedies.    One  may  become  accustomed  in  time  even 


348  SIBERIA 

to  the  sights  and  sounds  of  a  field  hospital,  and  the  Russian 
revolutionists  have  become  so  accustomed  to  injustice  and 
misery  that  they  can  speak  without  emotional  excitement 
of  things  that  made  my  face  flush  and  my  heart  beat  fast 
with  indignation  or  pity. 

"  Twice  in  my  life,"  said  a  well-known  Russian  liberal  to 
me,"  I  have  fully  realized  what  it  means  to  be  a  free  citizen. 
The  first  time  was  when  I  returned  to  Russia  from  the 
United  States  in  187-,  and  noticed  at  the  frontier  the  dif- 
ference between  the  attitude  taken  by  the  gendarmes  to- 
wards me  and  their  attitude  towards  Englishmen  who 
entered  the  empire  with  me.  The  second  time  was  just 
now,  when  I  saw  the  effect  produced  upon  you  by  the  story 

that  Mr.  B was  relating  to  you.     That  story  seemed  to 

you — as  I  could  plainly  see  from  the  expression  of  your 
face  —  something  awful  and  almost  incredible.  To  me  it 
was  no  more  surprising  or  extraordinary  than  an  account  of 
the  running-over  of  a  man  in  the  street.  As  I  watched  the 
play  of  expression  in  your  face  —  as  I  was  forced  to  look  at 
the  facts,  for  a  moment,  from  your  point  of  view  —  I  felt 
again,  to  the  very  bottom  of  my  soul,  the  difference  between 
a  free  citizen  and  a  citizen  of  Russia." 

In  Tomsk  we  began  to  feel  for  the  first  time  the  nervous 
strain  caused  by  the  sight  of  irremediable  human  misery. 
Our  journey  through  southwestern  Siberia  and  the  Altai 
had  been  off  the  great  exile  route;  the  politicals  whose 
acquaintance  we  had  made  in  Semipalatinsk,  Ulbinsk,  and 
Ust  Kamenogorsk  were  fairly  well  treated  and  did  not  seem 
to  be  suffering;  and  it  was  not  until  we  reached  Tomsk 
that  we  were  brought  face  to  face  with  the  tragedies  of 
exile  life.  From  that  time,  however,  until  we  recrossed  the 
Siberian  frontier  on  our  way  back  to  St.  Petersburg,  we 
were  subjected  to  a  nervoas  and  emotional  strain  that  was 
sometimes  harder  to  bear  than  cold,  hunger,  or  fatigue. 
One  cannot  witness  unmoved  such  suffering  as  we  saw  in 
the  halagdns  and  the  hospital  of  the  Tomsk  forwarding 


THE   LIFE   OF   POLITICAL   EXILES  349 

prison,  nor  can  one  listen  without  the  deepest  emotion  to 
such  stories  as  we  heard  from  political  exiles  in  Tomsk, 
Krasnoyarsk,  Irkutsk,  and  the  Trans-Baikal.  One  pale, 
sad,  delicate  woman,  who  had  been  banished  to  Eastern 
Siberia,  and  who  had  there  gone  down  into  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death,  undertook,  one  night,  I  remember,  to 
relate  to  me  her  experience.  I  could  see  that  it  was  agony 
for  her  to  live  over  in  narration  the  sufferings  and  bereave- 
ments of  her  tragic  past,  and  I  would  gladly  have  spared 
her  the  seK-imposed  torture;  but  she  was  so  determined 
that  the  world  should  know  through  me  what  Russians 
endure  before  they  become  terrorists,  that  she  nerved  her- 
self to  bear  it,  and  between  fits  of  haK-controlled  sobbing, 
during  which  I  could  only  pace  the  floor,  she  told  me  the 
story  of  her  life.  It  was  the  saddest  story  I  had  ever  heard. 
After  such  an  interview  as  this  with  a  heart-broken  woman 
— and  I  had  many  such — I  could  neither  sleep  nor  sit  still; 
and  to  the  nervous  strain  of  such  experiences,  quite  as 
much  as  to  hardship  and  privation,  was  attributable  the 
final  breaking  down  of  my  health  and  strength  in  the 
Trans-Baikal. 

Before  I  left  the  city  of  Tomsk  for  Eastern  Siberia,  most 
of  my  long-cherished  opinions  with  regard  to  nihilists  and 
the  working  of  the  exile  system  had  been  completely  over- 
thrown. I  could  not,  by  any  process  of  readjustment  or 
modification,  make  my  preconceived  ideas  fit  the  facts  as  I 
found  them.  In  a  letter  written  from  Tomsk  to  the  Presi- 
dent of  The  Century  Company  on  the  26th  of  August,  1885, 
I  indicated  the  change  that  had  taken  place  in  my  views  as 
follows : 

The  exile  system  is  much  worse  than  I  supposed.     Mr.  's 

examination  of  prisons  and  study  of  the  exile  system  were  ex- 
tremely superficial.  I  cannot  understand  how,  if  he  really  went 
through  the  Tiumen  and  Tomsk  forwarding  prisons,  he  could  have 
failed  to  see  that  then-  condition  and  the  condition  of  their  wretched 
inmates  were  in  many  respects  shocking.     Nobody  here  has  tried 


350  SIBEIUA 

to  conceal  it  from  me.  The  acting  governor  of  this  province  said 
to  me  very  frankly  yesterday  that  the  condition  of  the  Tomsk 
prison  is  uzhdsnoi  [awfnl],  but  that  he  cannot  help  it.  .  .  . 
What  I  have  pre\'iously  written  and  said  about  the  treatment  of 
the  political  exiles  seems  to  be  substantially  true  and  accurate, — 
at  least  so  far  as  Western  Siberia  is  concerned, — but  my  precon- 
ceived ideas  as  to  their  character  have  been  rudely  shaken.  The 
Russiau  liberals  and  revolutionists  whom  I  have  met  here  are  by 
no  means  half-educated  enthusiasts,  crazy  fanatics,  or  men  whose 
numtal  processes  it  is  difficult  to  understand.  On  the  contrary, 
they  are  simple,  natural,  perfectly  comprehensible,  and  often 
singularly  interesting  and  attractive.  One  sees  at  once  that  they 
are  educated,  reasonable,  self-controlled  gentlemen,  not  different 
in  any  essential  respect  from  one's  self.  When  I  write  up  this 
country  for  The  Century,  I  shall  have  to  take  back  some  of  the 
things  that  I  have  said.  The  exile  system  is  worse  than  I  believed 
it  to  be,  and  worse  than  I  have  described  it.  It  is  n't  pleasant,  of 
course,  to  have  to  admit  that  one  has  written  upon  a  subject  with- 
out fully  understanding  it;  but  even  that  is  better  than  trying, 
for  the  sake  of  consistency,  to  maintain  a  position  after  one  sees 
that  it  is  utterly  untenable. 


CHAPTER  XV 


THE   GREAT    SIBERIAN   ROAD 


ON  Friday,  August  28tli,  after  bidding  good-by  to  the  po- 
litical exiles  in  Tomsk  and  making  final  calls  upon  Colo- 
nel Yagodkin  and  two  or  three  other  officers  who  had  been 
particularly  kind  and  hospitable  to  us,  Mr.  Frost  and  I  pro- 
cured a  fresh  padorozlmaya,  climbed  once  more  into  our  old 
tdrantds,  and  set  out,  with  a  troika  of  good  post-horses,  for 
Irkutsk,  the  capital  of  Eastern  Siberia,  which  was  distant 
from  Tomsk  1040  miles.  Governor  Petukhof  had  promised 
that  he  would  send  us  an  open  letter  directing  all  convoy 
officers  within  his  jurisdiction  to  allow  us  to  inspect  etapes; 
but  he  had  forgotten  it,  or  had  reconsidered  his  promise 
after  finding  the  political  exiles  in  our  room  at  the  Euro- 
pean Hotel,  and  we  were  left  to  gain  admission  to  etapes  as 
best  we  could.  Our  journey  of  260  miles  to  Achinsk,  the 
first  town  in  Eastern  Siberia,  was  not  marked  by  any  note- 
worthy incident.  The  part  of  the  province  of  Tomsk 
through  which  we  passed  was  generally  rolling,  or  broken 
by  ranges  of  low  hills,  and  in  appearance  it  suggested  at 
times  the  thinly  settled  forest  region  of  eastern  Maine,  and 
at  others  the  fertile  farming  country  of  western  New  York. 
In  some  places  we  rode  for  hours  through  a  dense  second 
growth  of  birches,  poplars,  and  evergreens,  which  hid  from 
sight  everything  except  the  sky  and  the  black  muddy  road, 
and  then,  a  dozen  miles  farther  on,  we  would  come  out  into 
an  extensive  open  prairie  embroidered  with  daisies,  or  cross 
a  wide  shallow  valley  whose  bottom  and  sloping  sides  were 


'A'y2  SIBERIA 

covered  with  an  irregular  patchwork  of  cultivated  fields. 
The  weather  was  cool  and  fall-like,  but  the  mosquitos 
were  still  troublesome,  and  the  flowers  continued  to  be 
abundant.  On  the  (itli  of  September  I  counted  thirty-four 
different  kinds  of  flowers  in  blossom  beside  the  road,  in- 
cluding wild  roses,  forget-me-nots,  crane's-bill,  two  or  three 
species  of  aster,  goldenrod,  wild  mustard,  monk's-hood, 
spirea,  buttercups,  fireweed,  bluebells,  vase  pinks,  and 
Kirghis  caps.  Many  of  them  were  blooming  out  of  their 
proper  season  and  were  represented  by  only  a  few  scattered 
specimens;  but  of  others  we  might  have  picked  millions. 
The  most  attractive  and  highly  cultivated  region  that  we 
saw  was  that  lying  between  the  post-stations  of  Itatskaya 
and  Bogotolskaya,  about  fifty  miles  west  of  Achinsk.  The 
weather  was  warm  and  pleasant,  and  the  picture  presented 
by  the  fertile  rolling  country  with  its  rich  autumnal  color- 
ing, the  clumps  of  silver  birch  and  poplar  here  and  there  in 
the  flowery  meadows,  the  extensive  fields  of  ripe  yellow 
wheat  which  stretched  away  up  the  gentle  sunny  slopes  of 
the  hills,  and  the  groups  of  men  and  women  in  scarlet  or 
blue  shirts  who  were  harvesting  the  grain  with  clumsy 
sickles,  or  eating  their  noonday  lunch  in  the  shade  of  a 
frost-tinted  birch  by  the  roadside,  was  not  unworthy  of  an 
artist's  pencil,  nor  of  comparison  with  any  rural  landscape 
of  like  character  in  the  world. 

The  villages,  however,  in  this  part  of  Siberia  were  less 
deserving  of  commendation  than  was  the  scenery.  They 
consisted  generally  of  a  double  line  of  gray,  unpainted  log 
houses  extending  sometimes  for  two  or  three  versts  along 
the  miry,  chocolate-colored  road,  without  the  least  sign  any- 
where of  foliage  or  vegetation,  except,  perhaps,  the  leafy 
branch  of  a  tree  nailed  up  at  the  door  of  one  of  the  numer- 
ous kahdks,  "Rhine  cellars,"  "drinking  establishments," 
piteini  doms  or  ojMvl  sklads,  which  in  every  Siberian  village 
bring  revenue  to  the  Government  and  demoralization  to 
the  peasants.     These  bush-decorated  houses  are  of  many 


THE    GREAT    SIBERIAN   ROAD  353 

diffefrent  sorts  and  go  by  many  different  names;  but  they 
all  sell  vodka,  and,  to  a  great  extent,  they  are  responsible 
for  the  dirty,  slovenly,  and  poverty-stricken  appearance  of 
the  peasant  villages  on  the  great  Siberian  road.  There 
are  thirty  rum-shops  to  every  school  throughout  Western 
Siberia,  and  thirty-five  rum-shops  to  every  school  through- 
out Eastern  Siberia ;  and  in  a  country  where  there  exists 
such  a  disproportion  between  the  facilities  for  education 
and  the  facilities  for  intoxication,  one  cannot  reasonably 
expect  to  find  clean,  orderly,  or  prosperous  villages. 

The  graveyards  belonging  to  the  Siberian  settlements 
sometimes  seemed  to  me  much  more  remarkable  and  note- 
worthy than  the  settlements  themselves.  Near  one  of  the 
villages  that  we  passed  in  this  part  of  our  journey,  I  noticed 
a  cemetery  in  which  nearly  half  the  graves  were  marked  by 
jet-black,  three-armed,  wooden  crosses,  covered  with  nar- 
row A-shaped  roofs,  and  surrounded  by  red,  gi^een,  blue, 
and  yellow  picket-fences.  Some  of  the  peculiar  black 
crosses  bore  the  English  letters  "  I.  H.  S."  on  one  of  the 
arms,  while  others  had  painted  on  them  in  white  the  figure 
of  Christ  crucified  —  the  legs  being  made  extraordinarily 
long  and  thin  so  as  to  occupy  the  whole  length  of  the  up- 
right shaft.  Anything  more  remarkable  than  one  of  these 
ghastly  white  figures,  on  a  black  cross,  under  a  gable  roof, 
with  a  cheerful  red,  white,  and  blue  picket-fence  around  it, 
I  could  hardly  imagine ;  but  it  furnished  a  striking  proof 
that  the  Russian  love  for  crude  color  triumphs  even  over 
death.  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  bright  colore  used 
in  a  graveyard  in  any  other  part  of  the  world  or  among 
any  other  people. 

Harvesting  was  in  progi-ess  all  along  the  road  between 
Tomsk  and  Achinsk,  and  in  many  places  the  whole  popula- 
tion, with  the  exception  of  the  post-station-master  and  three 
or  four  drivers,  had  gone  to  the  fields.  In  one  village  the 
only  inhabitant  whom  we  saw  was  a  flaxen-haired  child 
about  five  years  of  age,  dressed  in  a  dirty  homespun  shirt, 
23 


3o4  SIBERIA 

wearing  on  a  string  about  its  neck  a  huge  cow-bell,  and 
gnawing  contentedly  at  a  big  raw  turnip,  as  it  paddled 
along  the  deserted  street  half-way  up  to  its  knees  in  mud. 
Whether  the  cow-bell  was  one  of  the  child's  playthings,  or 
whether  the  mother  had  made  use  of  it  as  a  means  of  finding 
her  offspring  when  she  should  return  from  the  harvest  field, 
I  do  not  know ;  but  the  combination  of  child,  turnip,  and 
cow-bell,  in  a  village  that  did  not  appear  to  contain  another 
living  inhabitant,  was  novel  enough  to  attract  my  attention. 

In  the  outskirts  of  another  settlement  we  were  reminded 
once  more  that  we  were  in  a  penal  colony  by  the  sight  of  a 
handcuffed  horse  grazing  peacefully  by  the  roadside.  I 
knew  that  the  Russian  Government  had  once  flogged  and 
exiled  to  Siberia  a  free-thinking  and  insubordinate  church- 
belP  because  it  had  not  self-control  enough  to  hold  its 
tongue  when  turned  upside  down ;  but  I  was  a  little  startled, 
nevertheless,  by  the  idea,  which  at  once  suggested  itself  to 
me,  that  the  Government  had  taken  to  exiling  and  hand- 
cuffing "  untrustworthy  "  horses.  Upon  making  inquiries 
of  the  station-master,  I  was  gratified  to  learn  that  this  was 
not  a  horse  that  had  behaved  in  a  manner  "  prejudicial  to 
public  tranquillity  "  by  refusing  to  neigh  upon  the  accession 
to  the  throne  of  Alexander  III.,  but  was  merely  an  animal 
addicted  to  vagrancy,  whose  owner  had  hobbled  him  with  an 
old  pair  of  Government  handcuffs  in  order  to  prevent  him 
from  straying.  The  peasant  to  whom  he  belonged  had  un- 
fortunately lost  the  key  to  the  handcuffs,  and  for  two  or 
three  months  the  horse  had  been  as  useless  for  all  practical 
purposes  as  a  spiked  cannon. 

Between  the  post-stations  of  Krasnorechinskaya  and 
Bieloyarskaya,  about  twenty  miles  west  of  Achinsk,  we 
crossed  the  boundary  line  between  the  provinces  of  Tomsk 
and  Yeniseisk,  and  entered  the  vast  region  known  as 
Eastern  Siberia.  The  boundary  was  marked  by  two  brick 
columns  about  two  feet  square  and  seven  feet  high,  which 

1  The  celebrated  bell  of  Uglieh.     It  is  now  in  Tobolsk. 


THE    GREAT    SIBERIAN   ROAD  355 

bore  on  their  eastern  and  western  sides  the  coats  of  arms 
of  the  two  coterminous  provinces.  The  rate  of  postal 
transportation  changed  at  this  point  from  one  and  a  half 
kopeks  to  three  kopeks  per  verst  for  every  horse,  and  our 


AN    OLD    SIBERIAN   FEKRY-BOAT. 


traveling  expenses  were  thus  almost  doubled,  without  any 
commensurate  increase  in  comfort  or  in  speed.  The  rea- 
son assigned  for  this  change  in  rate  is  the  higher  cost  of  for- 
age and  food  in  Eastern  Siberia ;  but  the  Government,  in 
dealing  with  its  exiles,  does  not  apparently  give  any  weight 
to  this  consideration.  If  the  necessaries  of  life  are  so  high 
in  Eastern  Siberia  as  to  justify  the  doubling  of  the  rate 
for  postal  transportation,  it  would  seem  to  follow  that  they 
are  high  enough  to  require  some  increase  in  the  ration  al- 
lowance of  the  exiles  on  the  road ;  but  no  such  increase  is 


356  SIBERIA 

made.  No  matter  whether  it  is  in  Western  Siberia  or  in 
Eastern  Siberia,  whether  black  bread  costs  two  kopeks  a 
pound  or  seven  kopeks  a  pound,  the  exile  receives  neither 
more  nor  less  than  ten  kopeks  a  day.  The  result  of  this  is 
tliat  in  Western  Siberia  he  generally  has  enough  food  to  sus- 
tain his  strength,  while  in  Eastern  Siberia,  and  particularly 
in  the  Trans-Baikal,  he  often  suffers  from  hunger. 

We  passed  the  town  of  Achinsk  on  Tuesday,  September 
1st,  and  entered  upon  the  most  difficult  and  exhausting  part 
of  our  journey.  The  country  suddenly  became  wilder  and 
more  mountainous  in  its  character ;  the  road,  for  a  distance 
of  sixty  or  seventy  miles,  ran  across  a  series  of  high  wooded 
ridges,  separated  one  from  another  by  swampy  ravines; 
rain  fell  almost  incessantly ;  and  it  was  all  that  five  power- 
ful horses  could  do  to  drag  our  heavy  tdrantds  up  the  steep 
hills  and  through  the  abysses  of  tenacious  semi-liquid  clay 
in  the  intervening  valleys.  Even  where  the  road  was  com- 
paratively hard,  it  had  been  cut  into  deep  ruts  and  hollows 
by  thousands  of  ohozes^  or  freight  wagons;  the  attempts 
that  had  been  made  here  and  there  to  improve  it  by  throw- 
ing tree-trunks  helter-skelter  into  the  sloughs  and  quagmires 
had  only  rendered  it  worse ;  and  the  swaying,  banging,  and 
plunging  of  the  tdrantds  were  something  frightful.  An 
American  stage-coach  would  have  gone  to  pieces  on  such  a 
road  before  it  had  made  a  single  station.  In  the  course  of 
the  first  night  after  leaving  Achinsk,  I  was  thrown  violently 
against  the  sides  or  the  roof  of  our  tdrantds  at  least  three 
or  four  hundred  times.  This  incessant  jolting,  added  to 
sleeplessness  and  fatigue,  brought  on  a  racking  headache ; 
I  was  in  a  shiver  most  of  the  night  from  cold  and  lack 
of  nourishing  food;  and  when  we  reached  the  station  of 
Ibriilskaya  early  Wednesday  morning,  after  ha\dng  made 
in  twenty  hours  and  with  four  changes  of  horses  a  dis- 
tance of  only  fifty  miles,  I  felt  as  if  I  had  been  beaten 
from  head  to  foot  with  a  club  and  left  for  dead.  Mr.  Frost 
was  sick,  and  had  had  three  severe  chills  in  the  night,  and  he 


THE    GREAT    SIBERIAN   ROAD  357 

looked  so  worn  and  haggard  that  I  became  seriously  alarmed 
about  him.  He  did  not  wish,  however,  to  stop  in  the  post- 
station  of  Ibrulskaya,  which  was  ah'eady  full  of  travelers 
sleeping  on  benches  or  on  the  floor,  and  after  refreshing 
ourselves  with  tea,  we  pushed  on  towards  Krasnoyarsk. 

I  cannot  remember,  in  all  Siberia,  a  worse  road  for 
wheeled  vehicles  than  that  between  Achinsk  and  Kras- 
noyarsk. I  have  never,  in  fact,  seen  a  worse  road  in  my 
life,  and  it  was  not  at  all  surprising  that  Mr.  Frost  was 
prostrated  by  the  jolting,  the  consequent  sleeplessness, 
and  the  lack  of  substantial  food.  We  had  been  able  to 
get  meat  at  the  post-stations  only  once  in  four  days ;  we 
had  lived  almost  entirely  upon  the  bread  and  tea  that  we 
carried  with  us ;  and  for  ninety-six  hours  we  had  had  only 
such  snatches  of  sleep  as  we  could  get  in  the  tdrantds  at 
intervals  on  short  stretches  of  smooth  road,  or  on  benches 
in  the  station-houses  while  waiting  for  horses.  It  was 
some  satisfaction  to  learn,  at  Ustanofskaya,  that  General 
Ignatief,  the  newly  appointed  governor-general  of  Eastern 
Siberia,  who  passed  over  the  road  between  Achinsk  and 
Krasnoyarsk  a  few  days  before  us,  was  so  exasperated  by 
its  condition  that  he  ordered  the  immediate  arrest  of  the 
contractor  who  had  undertaken  to  keep  it  in  repair,  and 
directed  that  he  be  held  in  prison  to  await  an  investigation. 
Mr.  Frost  and  I  agreed  that  it  was  a  proper  case  for  the 
exercise  of  despotic  power. 

We  arrived  in  Krasnoyarsk  late  on  the  evening  of  Wed- 
nesday, September  2d,  after  a  journey  from  Tomsk  of  370 
miles,  which  had  occupied  a  little  more  than  five  days  of 
incessant  travel.  An  abundant  supper  and  a  good  night's 
rest  in  a  small  hotel  near  the  post-station  restored  our  tired 
bodies  to  something  like  their  normal  condition,  and  Thurs- 
day afternoon  we  changed  om-  travel-stained  clothing  and 
called  upon  Mr.  Leo  Petrovitch  Kuznetsof,  a  wealthy  gold- 
mining  proprietor  to  whom  we  had  brought  a  letter  of  in- 
troduction from  St.  Petersburg.     We  little  anticipated  the 


358 


SIBEEIA 


luxurious  comfort  of  the  house  and  the  delightful  social 
ntiuosphero  of  the  home  circle  to  which  this  letter  would 
admit  us.     The  servant  who  came  to  the  door  in  response 


to  our  ring  showed  us  into  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
tastefully  furnished  drawing-rooms  that  we  had  seen  in 
Russia.  It  was  fully  fifty  feet  in  length  by  thirty-five  feet 
in  width  and  twenty  feet  high ;  its  inlaid  floor  of  polished 
oak  was  hidden  here  and  there  by  soft  oriental  rugs ;  palms, 
luxuriant  ferns,  and  pots  of  blossoming  plants  occupied 


THE    GREAT    SIBERIAN   ROAD  359 

the  lower  portions  of  the  high,  richly  curtained  windows ; 
the  apparent  size  of  the  spacious  apartment  was  increased 
by  long  pier-glasses  interposed  between  the  masses  of 
greenery  and  flowers;  a  cheerful  fire  of  birch  wood  was 
burning  in  an  open  fireplace  under  a  massive  mantel  of 
carved  marble ;  cabinets  of  polished  cherry,  filled  with  rare 
old  china,  delicate  ivory  carvings,  bronze  Buddhist  idols, 
and  all  sorts  of  bric-a-brac,  stood  here  and  there  against 
the  walls;  large  oil-paintings  by  well-known  Russian, 
French,  and  English  artists  occupied  places  of  honor  at 
the  ends  of  the  room ;  and  at  our  right,  as  we  entered,  was 
a  grand  piano,  flanked  by  a  carved  stand  piled  high  with 
books  and  music. 

We  had  hardly  had  time  to  recover  from  the  state  of 
astonishment  into  which  we  were  thrown  by  the  sight  of 
so  many  unexpected  evidences  of  wealth,  culture,  and  re- 
finement in  this  remote  East  Siberian  town  when  a  slender, 
dark-haired,  pale-faced  young  man  in  correct  afternoon 
dress  entered  the  drawing-room,  introduced  himself  as 
Mr.  Innokenti  Kuznetsof,  and  welcomed  us  in  good  English 
to  Krasnoyarsk.  We  were  soon  made  acquainted  with  the 
whole  Kuznetsof  family,  which  consisted  of  three  brothers 
and  two  sisters,  all  unmarried,  and  all  living  together  in  this 
luxurious  house.  Mr.  Innokenti  Kuznetsof  and  his  sisters 
spoke  English  fluently  ;  they  had  traveled  in  America,  and 
had  spent  more  or  less  time  in  New  York,  Philadelphia, 
Washington,  Saratoga,  Chicago,  Salt  Lake  City,  and  San 
Francisco.  Mr.  Innokenti  Kuznetsof's  personal  acquain- 
tance with  the  United  States  was  more  extensive,  indeed, 
than  my  own,  inasmuch  as  he  had  twice  crossed  the  con- 
tinent ;  had  hunted  buffalo  on  our  Western  prairies ;  had 
met  General  Sheridan,  Buffalo  Bill,'  Captain  Jack,  and 
other  frontier  notables,  and  had  even  visited  regions  as 
remote  as  Yellowstone  Park  and  the  "Staked  Plains." 

How  pleasant  it  was,  after  months  of  rough  life  in  dirty 
post-stations  or  vermin-infested  hotels,  to  come  suddenly 


360  SIBERIA 

into  such  a  house  as  that  of  the  Kuznetsofs ;  to  find  our- 
selves surrounded  by  flowers,  books,  pictures,  and  innumer- 
able other  evidences  of  cultured  taste;  to  hear  good  music; 
to  talk  with  intelligent  men  and  women  who  did  not  tell  us 
harrowing  stories  of  imprisonment  and  exile  —  all  this  the 


MONASTERY    NEAK    KRASNOYAKSK. 


reader  can  hardly  imagine.  We  dined  with  the  Kuznetsofs 
every  day  that  we  spent  in  Krasnoyarsk,  and  met  at  their 
table  some  very  attractive  and  cultivated  people.  Among 
the  latter  I  remember  particularly  Mr.  Ivan  Savenkof,  the 
director  of  the  Krasnoyarsk  normal  school,  who  had  just 
returned  from  an  archaeological  excursion  up  the  Yenisei, 
and  who  showed  us  some  very  interesting  tracings  and 
water-color  copies  of  the  prehistoric  sketches  and  inscrip- 
tions that  abound  on  the  "  pictured  rocks  "  along  that  river. 
Mr.  Innokenti  Kuznetsof  shared  Mr.  Savenkof  s  interest  in 
archaeology,  and  both  gentlemen  had  valuable  collections 
of  objects  dating  from  the  stone  or  the  bronze  age  that  had 
been  taken  from  Jcurgdns  or  tumuli  in  various  parts  of  the 
province. 

Thursday  evening,  after  dinner,  we  all  drove  up  the  left 
bank  of  the  river  to  an  old  monastery  about  six  versts  from 
the  city,  where  the  people  of  Krasnoyarsk  are  accustomed 
to  go  in  summer  for  picnics.  The  road,  which  was  a  note- 
worthy triumph  of  monastic  engineering,  had  been  cut  out 


THE    GKEAT    SIBERIAN   ROAD 


361 


in  the  steep  cliffs  that  border  the  Yenisei,  or  had  been  car- 
ried on  trestle-work  along  the  faces  of  these  cliffs  high 
above  the  water,  and  at  every  salient  angle  it  commanded 
a  beautiful  view  of  the  majestic  river,  which,  at  this  point, 
attains  a  width  of  more  than  a  mile  and  glides  swiftly  past, 
between  blue  picturesque  mountains,  on  its  way  from  the 
wild  fastnesses  of  Mongolia  to  the  barren  coast  of  the  arctic 
ocean. 

Our  friends  in  Krasnoyarsk  tempted  us  to  remain  there 
a  week  or  two  with  promises  of  all  sorts  of  delightful  ex- 
cursions, but  at  that  late  season  of  the  year  we  could  not 
spare  the  time.  It  required  not  a  little  resolution  to  turn 
our  backs  on  picnic  parties  and  boating  parties,  on  archae- 
ological excursions  up  the  Yenisei,  on  such  congenial 
society  as  we  found  in  the  hospitable  homes  of  Mr. 
Savenkof  and  the  Kuznetsofs,  and  to  face  again  the  old 
miseries  of  jolting,  sleeplessness,  cold,  hunger,  and  fatigue 


KOAD    TO    MONASTERY. 


on  the  road ;  but  it  was  important  that  we  should  reach  the 
mines  of  the  Trans-Baikal  before  winter  set  in,  and  we  had 
yet  1200  miles  to  go. 

Saturday  afternoon,  September  5th,  we  reluctantly  ordered 
post-horses;  provided  ourselves  with  a  fresh  supply  of 
bread,  tea,  and  copper  money;  repacked  our  baggage  in 


362  SIBERIA 

tlio  old,  battered,  imid-splashed  tdrantds^  wliieh  we  were 
be^-imiing  to  dread  as  a  oiice-tortui-ed  criminal  dreads  the 
rack ;  and  crossing  the  Yenisei  on  a  pendulum  ferry-boat, 
resumed  our  journey  to  Irkutsk.  The  weather  was  once 
more  pleasant  and  sunshiny,  but  the  changing  colors  of  the 
dying  leaves  showed  that  fall  was  at  hand.  Many  of  the 
poplars  had  already  turned  a  deep  brilliant  red,  and  nearly 
half  of  the  birches  were  solid  masses  of  canary  yellow, 
which,  when  seen  against  the  dark  background  of  the  somber 
evergreens,  suggested  foliage  in  a  state  of  incandescence. 
The  vast  fields  of  wheat  in  the  valley  of  the  Yenisei  and  on 
the  lower  slopes  of  the  hills  in  the  neighborhood  of  Kras- 
noyarsk were  apparently  dead  ripe,  and  hundreds  of  men 
and  women  with  horse-hair  mosquito-protectors  over  their 
heads  were  reaping  the  grain  with  sickles,  binding  it  into 
sheaves,  and  stacking  the  sheaves  by  fives  in  long  rows. 

We  traveled  without  rest  Sunday,  Monday,  and  Tuesday, 
but  on  Wednesday  morning,  at  the  station  of  Kamishets- 
kaya,  about  350  miles  from  Irkutsk,  we  were  forced  to  stop 
in  order  to  have  repairs  made  to  our  tdrantds.  We  found 
the  village  blacksmith  in  a  little  shop  near  the  post-station, 
where,  with  the  aid  of  his  daughter,  a  robust  young  woman 
eighteen  or  twenty  years  of  age,  he  was  engaged  in  shoeing 
a  horse.  One  might  infer,  from  the  elaborate  precautions 
taken  to  prevent  the  animal  from  injuring  himself  or  any- 
body else  while  being  shod,  that  Siberian  horses  were  more 
than  usually  fractious,  or  Siberian  blacksmiths  more  than 
usually  careless  in  driving  nails.  The  poor  beast  had  been 
hoisted  into  the  air  by  means  of  two  broad  belly-bands,  and 
suspended  from  a  stout  frame  so  that  he  could  not  touch 
the  gi'ound ;  three  of  his  legs  had  then  been  lashed  to  an 
equal  number  of  posts  so  that  he  could  neither  kick  nor 
struggle,  and  the  daring  blacksmith  was  fearlessly  putting 
a  shoe  on  the  only  hoof  that  the  wretched  and  humiliated 
animal  could  move.  We  learned,  upon  inquiry,  that  Si- 
berian horses  are  always  shod  in  this  way,  and  we  concluded 


THE    GEEAT    SIBEKIAN   ROAD 


363 


that  Siberian  blacksmiths  must  be  regarded  by  accident 

insurance  companies  as  extra-safe  and  very  desirable  risks. 

While  we  were  waiting  for  the  repairs  to  our  tdrantds  we 

were  overtaken  by  the  Moscow  post.     The  Russian  mails 


are  carried  in  Siberia  in  leathern  bags  or  pouches  as  with  us, 
and  are  forwarded  in  teUfias  under  guard  of  an  armed  pos- 
tilion, changing  horses  and  vehicles  at  every  station.     There 


364  SIBERIA 

is  uo  limit,  so  far  as  I  know,  to  the  weight  or  size  of 
packages  that  may  be  sent  by  post, —  I  myself  mailed 
a  box  weighing  forty  pounds, —  and  the  mails  are  con- 
sequently very  bulky  and  heavy,  filling  sometimes  a  dozen 
tehyas.  Irkutsk,  the  capital  of  Eastern  Siberia,  has  a  mail 
from  Moscow  every  day  and  returns  it  three  times  a  week ; 
and  as  the  imperial  post  takes  precedence  over  private  trav- 
elers, the  latter  are  often  forced  to  wait  for  hours  at  post- 
stations  because  the  last  horses  have  been  taken  by  the 
Government  postilion.  Such  was  our  fate  at  Kamishets- 
kaya.  The  repairs  to  our  tdrantds  were  soon  made,  but  in 
the  mean  time  we  had  been  overtaken  by  the  post,  and  we 
were  obliged  to  wait  for  horses  until  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon. 

From  Kamishetskaya  to  Irkutsk  we  traveled  night  and 
day,  stopping  only  now  and  then  to  inspect  an  etape,  or 
to  watch  the  progress  of  an  exile  party,  as,  with  a  dis- 
mal clinking  of  chains,  it  made  its  way  slowly  along  the 
road,  in  a  pouring  rain,  towards  the  distant  mines  of  the 
Trans-Baikal. 

This  ride  from  Tomsk  to  Irkutsk  was  in  some  respects  a 
harder  and  more  exhausting  journey  than  that  from  Tiu- 
men  to  the  mountains  of  the  Altai.  Long-continued  rain 
had  spoiled  the  road  and  rendered  it  in  places  almost  im- 
passable. The  jolting  of  our  heavy  tdrantds  through  deep 
ruts  and  over  occasional  stretches  of  imperfect  corduroy  gave 
us  \iolent  headaches  and  prevented  us  from  getting  any 
restful  sleep ;  warm,  nourishing  food  was  rarely  to  be  ob- 
tained at  the  post-stations ;  we  had  not  yet  provided  our- 
selves with  winter  clothing,  and  suffered  more  or  less  every 
night  from  cold ;  and  finally,  we  were  tormented  constantly 
by  predatory  insects  from  the  roadside  prisons  and  Stapes. 
No  single  hardship  connected  with  our  investigation  of  the 
exile  system  was  more  trying  to  me  than  the  utter  impos- 
sibility of  escaping  from  parasitic  vermin.  Cold,  hunger, 
sleeplessness,  and  fatigue   I   could  bear  with  reasonable 


THE    GREAT    SIBERIAN   ROAD 


365 


patience  and  fortitude ;  but  to  be  forced  to  live  for  weeks 
at  a  time  in  clothing  infested  with  fleas,  lice,  or  bedbugs 
from  the  unclean  bodies  of  common  criminal  convicts  not 
only  seemed  to  me  intolerable  in  itself,  but  gave  me  a  hu- 


it 


;^M 


THE    DEPARTURE    OF    THE    MAIL. 


miliating  sense  of  physical  defilement  that  was  almost  as 
bad  as  a  consciousness  of  moral  degradation.  We  tried  in 
every  possible  way  to  rid  ourselves  of  these  parasitic  prison 
insects,  but  without  success.  The  older  and  more  neglected 
Stapes  along  the  road  were  swarming  with  vermin  of  all 
sorts,  and  whenever  we  examined  one  of  these  places  we 
came  away  from  it  with  a  small  but  varied  entomological 
collection  in  our  clothing.     The  insects  soon  secured  lodg- 


:U>G  SIBEKIA 

lueiit  in  our  blankets  and  pillows  as  well  as  in  the  crevices 
iiud  lining  of  onr  tdnmtds,  and  then  it  was  impossible  either 
to  exterminate  or  to  escape  them.  After  throwing  away  suc- 
cessively two  or  three  suits  of  underclothing,  I  abandoned  all 
liope  of  relief  and  reconciled  myself  to  the  inevitable  as  best 
I  could.  There  were  insects  on  my  body  or  in  my  clothing 
during  the  greater  part  of  four  months,  and  when  I  was 
able  to  undress  for  the  first  time  after  our  nine-days'  jour- 
ney from  Krasnoyarsk  to  Irkutsk,  I  found  myself  spotted 
and  blotched  from  head  to  foot  as  if  I  were  suffering  from 
some  foul  eruptive  disease.  It  is  not  pleasant,  of  course, 
to  go  into  these  details,  but  I  wish  the  reader  to  understand 
clearly  and  definitely  what  life  in  an  etajic  is,  and  what  Si- 
berian exile  means  to  a  cultivated  human  being.^ 

I  do  not  know  that  it  is  possible  to  get  rid  entirely  of  ob- 
noxious insects  in  old  and  sometimes  half-decayed  build- 
ings through  wdiich  pass  every  year  thousands  of  criminals 
from  the  lowest  social  classes.  It  is  possible,  however,  to 
keep  the  eta])es  decently  clean  and  to  provide  the  exiles, 
both  in  the  forwarding  prisons  and  on  the  road,  with  proper 
facilities  for  bathing  and  for  changing  and  washing  their 
clothing.  How  far  these  things  are  done  now  I  shall  try  to 
show  in  the  next  chapter. 

As  we  approached  the  East-Siberian  capital,  towards  the 
end  of  the  second  week  in  September,  the  weather  finally 
cleared  up,  and  upon  the  southeastern  horizon,  far  away 
in  the  distance,  we  caught  sight  of  the  blue,  ethereal,  snow- 
crowned  peaks  of  Tunka,  situated  on  the  frontier  of  Mon- 
golia near  the  southern  end  of  Lake  Baikal.     They  were 

1  A  common  method  of  gambling  trie  circles  on  one  of  the  sleeping- 
among  criminal  convicts  in  Siberian  platforms,  put  a  number  of  lice  simul- 
etapes  is  to  spread  down  an  overcoat  or  taneously  within  the  inner  circle,  and 
a  dirty  linen  foot-wrapper  on  the  floor  then  give  all  the  money  that  has  been 
of  the  kdmera,  and  guess  at  the  num-  wagered  on  the  event  to  the  convict 
ber  of  fleas  that  will  jump  upon  it  whose  louse  first  crawls  across  the  line 
within  a  certain  length  of  time.  Every  of  the  outer  circle.  Exiles  on  the  road 
convict,  of  course,  backs  his  guess  with  are  not  supposed  to  have  playing-cards, 
a  wager.  Another  method,  equally  but  facilities  for  gambling  in  the  man- 
common,  is  to  draw  two  small  concen-  ner  above  described  are  never  lacking. 


THE    GREAT    SIBERIAN   ROAD  367 

evidence  that  Irkutsk  was  near.  When  the  morning  of 
Sunday,  September  13th,  dawned  cool  and  bright  we  found 
ourselves  riding  over  a  good  road,  along  the  swift  but  tran- 
quil current  of  the  river  Angara,  and  through  a  country 
the  extensive  cultivation  and  prosperous  appearance  of 
which  indicated  its  proximity  to  a  market.  About  two 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we  stopped  to  change  horses  at  the 
last  post-station,  and  with  inspiriting  anticipations  of  rest, 
sleep,  clean  linen,  and  letters  from  home  we  entered  the 
travelers'  waiting-room  and  read,  in  the  official  distance- 
table  hanging  against  the  wall,  the  significant  words  and 

figures : 

POST-STATION  OF  BOKOFSKAYA. 

DISTANT 

From  St.  Petersburg  5601  versts. 

From  Irkutsk    13  versts. 

You  may  subtract  thirteen  from  5601,  or  divide  5601  by 
thirteen,  or  put  the  two  numbers  through  any  other  mathe- 
matical process  that  you  choose,  but  you  will  never  fully 
appreciate  the  difference  between  them  until  you  have  trav- 
eled 5601  versts  in  the  Russian  Empire  and  have  only  thir- 
teen versts  more  to  go. 

As  soon  as  fresh  horses  could  be  harnessed  we  dashed 
away  up  the  Angara  towards  Irkutsk,  looking  eagerly  for- 
ward to  catch  the  first  possible  glimpse  of  its  gilded  domes 
and  its  snowy  cathedral  walls.  I  had  not  seen  the  city  in 
eighteen  years,  and  meanwhile  it  had  been  almost  entirely 
destroyed  by  fire,  and  had  been  rebuilt.  I  feared,  there- 
fore, that  it  would  not  present  so  beautiful  and  striking 
an  appearance  as  it  did  when  I  saw  it  first,  in  the  winter 
of  1867.  About  five  versts  from  the  city  we  passed  the 
picturesque  white-walled  monastery  of  Vosnesensk,  with 
a  throng  of  dirty,  ragged,  long-haired  pilgrims  gathered 
about  its  principal  entrance,  and  beyond  it  we  began  to 
meet  unarmed  soldiers,  peasants,  peddlers,  tramps,  and 
nondescript  vagabonds  of  all  sorts  who  had  been  spending 


368  SIBERIA 

tlie  Sabbath-day  in  the  city  and  were  straggUng  back  on 
foot  to  their  respective  places  of  abode  in  the  suburban 
\4nages.  Nearly  half  of  them  were  more  or  less  intoxi- 
cated, and  the  number  of  open  JiahdJis,  or  drinking-places, 
that  we  saw  by  the  road  seemed  fully  adequate  to  explain 
if  not  to  excuse  their  condition 

We  crossed  the  swift  current  of  the  Angara  by  means  of 
a  "swing,"  or  pendulum,  ferry,  and  di'ove  up  from  the 
landing  into  the  streets  of  the  city.  I  was  somewhat  dis- 
appointed in  its  appearance.  Its  gilded  or  colored  domes, 
white  belfries,  and  scattered  masses  of  foliage,  when  seen 
from  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  give  to  it  a  certain  half- 
oriental  pictui'esqueness ;  but  to  an  observer  in  its  streets 
it  presents  itself  as  a  large,  busy,  thriving,  but  irregularly 
built  and  unattractive  Russian  provincial  town.  After  un- 
successfully seeking  shelter  in  the  new  and  pretentious 
Moscow  House  and  in  the  Siberian  Hotel,  we  finally  went 
to  the  Hotel  Deko,  where,  as  we  were  informed.  Lieuten- 
ants Harber  and  Schuetze  stayed  when  they  passed  through 
the  city  in  1882  on  their  way  to  the  Lena  Delta.  An  elderly 
and  rather  talkative  servant  who  brought  our  luggage  to 
our  room  introduced  himself  by  saying  that  he  always  used 
to  wait  on  Mr.  Harber  and  Mr.  Schuetze,  and  that  the  for- 
mer loved  him  so  that  he  called  him  "Zhan"  (John).  He 
seemed  to  think  that  "Zhan"  was  an  American  nickname 
expressive  of  the  teuderest  and  most  affectionate  regard, 
and  that  he  needed  no  other  recommendation  than  this  to 
an  American  traveler.  I  told  him  that  if  he  would  take  care 
of  us  properly  we  also  would  call  him  "  Zhan,"  at  which  he 
seemed  very  much  gratified.  From  the  frequency  and  the 
pride  with  which  he  afterwards  referred  to  this  caressing 
nickname,  I  feel  confident  that  when  he  comes  to  die,  and 
a  tombstone  is  placed  over  his  mortal  remains,  no  possible 
enumeration  thereon  of  his  many  virtues  will  give  to  his 
freed  spirit  half  so  much  pleasure  as  the  simple  epitaph, 

THE  AMERICANS  CALLED  HIM  "ZHAN." 


CHAPTER  XVI 


DEPOETATION   BY   ETAPE 


IN  Tomsk,  and  during  onr  journey  from  that  city  to 
Irkutsk,  we  had  for  the  first  time  a  satisfactory  oppor- 
tunity to  study  the  life  of  Siberian  exiles  on  the  road. 
Marching  parties  of  convicts  three  or  four  hundred  strong 
leave  Tomsk  for  Irkutsk  weekly  throughout  the  whole  year, 
and  make  the  journey  of  1040  miles  in  about  three  months. 
EtapeSj  or  exile  station-houses,  stand  along  the  road  at  in- 
tervals of  from  twenty-five  to  forty  miles;  and  at  every 
€taj)e  there  is  a  "convoy  command"  consisting  of  a  com- 
missioned officer  known  as  the  "  nachdlnik  of  the  convoy," 
two  or  three  under-officers,  and  about  forty  soldiers.  As 
the  distance  from  one  eta2)e  to  another  is  too  great  to  be 
walked  in  a  single  day  by  prisoners  in  leg-fetters,  buildings 
known  as  pohi-etapes,  or  "  half-etapes,"  have  been  con- 
structed midway  between  the  true  etapes  for  the  shelter 
of  the  convicts  at  night.  These  half-way  houses  are  gen- 
erally smaller  than  the  regular  etapes^  as  well  as  somewhat 
different  from  the  latter  in  architectural  plan,  and  they  have 
no  "  convoy  commands."  Marching  parties  are  expected  to 
make  about  500  versts,  or  330  miles,  a  month,  with  twenty- 
four  hours  of  rest  every  third  day.  If  a  party  leaves  Tomsk 
Monday  morning,  it  reaches  a  polu-etape  Monday  night, 
arrives  at  the  first  regular  etape  Tuesday  night,  and  rests  in 
the  latter  all  day  Wednesday.  Thursday  morning  it  re- 
sumes its  journey  with  another  convoy,  Thursday  night  it 
24  ^» 


370  SIBEIUA 

spends  in  the  second  poJx-f'fajx',  Friday  night  it  reaches  the 
second  reguUir  cta})^',  'ind  Saturday  it  again  rests  and  changes 
convoy.  In  this  way  the  party  proceeds  slowly  for  months, 
resting  one  dtiy  out  of  every  three,  and  changing  convoys 
at  every  other  station.  Each  prisoner  receives  five  cents  a 
day  in  money  for  his  subsistence,  and  buys  food  for  him- 
self from  peasants  along  the  road  who  make  a  business  of 
furnisliing  it.  The  dress  of  the  exiles  in  summer  consists 
of  a  shirt  and  a  pair  of  trousers  of  coarse  gray  linen ;  square 
foot-wrappers  of  the  same  material  in  lieu  of  stockings  ;  low 
shoes  or  slippers  called  kafi ;  leather  ankle-guards  to  pre- 
vent the  leg-fetters  from  chafing;  a  visorless  Glengarry 
cap  ;  and  a  long  gray  overcoat.  The  dress  of  female  con- 
victs is  the  same,  except  that  a  petticoat  takes  the  place  of 
the  trousers.  Women  and  children  who  voluntarily  accom- 
pany relatives  to  Siberia  are  permitted  to  wear  their  own 
clothing,  and  to  carry  severally  as  much  baggage  as  can  be 
put  into  a  two-bushel  bag.  No  distinction  is  made  between 
common  convicts  and  political  convicts,  except  that  the  lat- 
ter, if  they  are  nobles"  or  belong  to  one  of  the  privileged 
classes,  receive  seven  and  a  half  cents  a  day  for  their  sub- 
sistence instead  of  five,  and  are  carried  in  telegas  instead  of 
being  forced  to  walk.' 

Up  to  the  year  1883  there  was  no  separation  of  the  sexes 
in  marching  parties;  but  since  that  time  an  attempt  has 
been  made  to  forward  unmarried  male  prisoners  apart  from 
"family  parties,"  and  to  include  in  the  latter  all  children 
and  unmarried  women.  This  reform  has  lessened  some- 
what the  demoralization  resulting  from  the  promiscuous 
association  of  men,  women,  and  children  for  months  in 
overcrowded  etapes ;  but  the  state  of   affairs  is  still  very 

1  At  one  time  politicals  were  sent  to  inconvenience  and   expense,  and  all 

Siberia  separately  in  post  vehicles  un-  politicals    are    now    forwarded    with 

der  guard  of  gendarmes,  and  were  car-  common   criminal   parties.      The  re- 

ried   to   their  destinations  almost  as  suit  of  the  change  is  to  prolong  by 

quickly  as  if  they  had   been  private  many  months   the   miseries   of   etape 

travelers.      That    practice,    however,  life,  and  to  increase  enormously  the 

has  been  abandoned  on  account  of  its  chances  of  sickness  and  death. 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE  371 

bad,  since  even  "family  parties"  contain  large  numbers 
of  depraved  men  and  boys. 

Three  or  four  days  before  we  left  Tomsk  for  Irkutsk, 
Mr.  Frost  and  I,  by  invitation  of  Captain  Gudim,  the 
naclidlnik  of  the  Tomsk  convoy  command,  drove  to  the 
forwarding  prison  at  7  a.  m.  to  see  the  departure  of  a 
marching  party.  The  morning  was  cool,  but  a  clear  sky 
gave  i^romise  of  a  warm,  sunshiny  day.  As  we  drew 
up  before  the  prison  we  saw  that  the  party  had  not  yet 
made  its  appearance ;  and,  presuming  that  Captain  Grudim 
was  busy,  we  did  not  send  for  him,  but  sat  in  our  droshhj 
watching  the  scenes  at  the  gate.  On  each  side  of  the 
lead-colored  portal  was  a  long  wooden  bench,  upon  which 
half-a-dozen  soldiers,  in  dark  green  uniforms,  were  sitting 
in  lazy  attitudes,  waiting  for  the  party  to  come  out,  and 
amusing  themselves  meanwhile  by  exchanging  coarse  wit- 
ticisms with  three  or  foui'  female  provision-venders,  squat- 
ted near  them  on  the  ground.  An  occasional  high-pitched 
jingle  of  chains  could  be  heard  from  within  the  inclosure, 
and  now  and  then  half  of  the  double  gate  was  thrown  open 
to  admit  a  couple  of  fettered  convicts  carrying  water  in  a 
large  wooden  bucket  slung  between  them  on  a  shoulder- 
pole.  Every  person  who  entered  the  prison  yard  was  hastily 
searched  from  head  to  foot  by  one  of  the  two  sentries  at 
the  gate,  in  order  to  prevent  the  smuggling  in  of  prohibited 
articles,  and  especially  of  vodka. 

About  eight  o'clock  telegas  for  the  transportation  of  the 
weak  and  infirm  began  to  gather  in  the  street  in  front  of  the 
prison ;  a  shabby  under-officer  who  had  been  lounging  with 
the  soldiers  on  one  of  the  benches  rose,  yawned,  and  went 
discontentedly  into  the  prison  courtyard ;  the  soldiers  put 
on  their  blanket-rolls  and  picked  up  their  Berdan  rifles; 
and  a  louder  and  more  continuous  jingling  of  chains  from 
the  other  side  of  the  palisade  announced  that  the  convict 
party  was  assembling.  At  last  the  prison  blacksmith  came 
out,  bringing  a  small  portable  forge,  a  lap  anvil,  a  hammer 


372  SIBERIA 

ov  two,  and  an  annful  of  chains  and  log-fetters,  which  he 
threw  carelessly  on  the  ground  beside  him;  the  soldiers 
shouldered  their  guns  and  took  positions  in  a  semicircle  so 
as  to  form  a  cordon ;  an  under-ofificer  with  the  muster-roll 
of  the  party  in  his  hand  and  another  with  a  leather  bag  of 
copper  coins  slung  over  his  shoulder  stationed  themselves 
near  the  gate ;  and  at  the  word  "  Gatova ! "  [Eeady !]  the 
convicts,  in  single  file,  began  to  make  their  appearance. 
The  officer  with  the  muster-roll  checked  off  the  prisoners 
as  they  answered  to  their  names ;  the  blacksmith,  with  the 
aid  of  a  soldier,  examined  their  leg-fetters  to  see  that  the 
rivets  were  fast  and  that  the  bands  could  not  be  slipped 
over  the  heel ;  and,  finally,  the  second  under-officer  gave  to 
every  man  ten  cents  in  copper  coin  for  two  days'  sub- 
sistence between  etajjes.  When  all  of  the  kdtor^Jmiki,  or 
hard-labor  convicts,  had  come  out  of  the  prison  yard,  they 
arranged  themselves  in  two  parallel  lines  so  that  they  could 
be  conveniently  counted,  and  removed  their  caps  so  that 
the  under-officer  could  see  that  their  heads  had  been  half 
shaved  as  required  by  law.  They  were  then  dismissed,  and 
the  2>oselentsi,  or  penal  colonists,  went  through  the  same 
routine— the  soldiers  of  the  convoy  stepping  backward 
and  extending  the  limits  of  their  cordon  as  the  number  of 
prisoners  outside  the  palisade  gradually  increased. 

At  length  the  whole  party,  numbering  350  or  400,  was 
assembled  in  the  street.  Every  prisoner  had  a  gray  linen 
bag  in  which  were  stored  his  scanty  personal  effects  ;  many 
of  them  were  provided  with  copper  kettles  which  dangled 
from  the  leather  belts  that  supported  their  leg- fetter  chains; 
and  one  convict  was  carrying  to  the  mines  in  his  arms  a 
small  brown  dog. 

When  the  whole  party  had  again  been  counted,  and  while 
the  gray  bags  were  being  put  into  telegas,  I  availed  myself 
of  what  seemed  to  be  a  favorable  opportunity  to  talk  with 
the  prisoners.  In  a  moment,  to  my  great  surprise,  I  was 
addressed  by  one  of  them  in  good  English. 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE  373 

"  Who  are  you  !  "  I  inquired  in  astonishment. 

"  I  am  a  vagabond,"  he  said  quietly  and  seriously. 

"  What  is  your  name '! " 

"  Ivan  Dontremember,"  he  replied ;  and  then  glancing 
around,  and  seeing  that  none  of  the  convoy  officers  were 
near,  he  added  in  a  low  tone,  "  My  real  name  is  John 
Anderson,  and  I  am  from  Riga." 

"  How  do  you  happen  to  know  English  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  am  of  English  descent ;  and,  besides  that,  I  was  once 
a  sailor,  and  have  been  in  English  ports." 

At  this  point  the  approach  of  Captain  Gudfm  put  a  stop 
to  our  colloquy.  The  number  of  "  brodi/dgs,''^  or  vagabonds, 
in  this  party  was  very  large,  and  nearly  all  of  them  were 
runaway  convicts  of  the  "Dontremember"  family,  who  had 
been  recaptured  in  Western  Siberia,  or  had  surrendered 
themselves  during  the  previous  winter  in  order  to  escape 
starvation. 

"I  have  no  doubt,"  said  Captain  Gudim  to  me,  "that 
there  are  hrodydgs  in  this  very  party  who  have  escaped 
and  been  sent  back  to  the  mines  half  a  dozen  times." 

"  Boys!"  he  shouted  suddenly,  "how  many  of  you  are  now 
going  to  the  mines  for  the  sixth  time?" 

"  Mnogo  yest "  [There  are  lots  of  them],  replied  several 
voices;  and  finally  one  gray-bearded  convict  in  leg-fetters 
came  forward  and  admitted  that  he  had  made  four  escapes 
from  the  mines,  and  that  he  was  going  into  penal  servitude 
for  the  fifth  time.  In  other  words,  this  man  had  traversed 
eight  times  on  foot  the  distance  of  nearly  2000  miles 
between  Tomsk  and  the  mines  of  Kara. 

"I  know  hrodydfjs^^  said  Captain  Gudim,  "who  have 
been  over  this  road  sixteen  times  in  leg-fetters,  and  who 
have  come  back  sixteen  times  across  the  steppes  and 
through  the  woods.  God  only  knows  how  they  live 
through  it ! " 

When  one  considers  that  crossing  Eastern  Siberia  thirty- 
two  times  on  foot  is  about  equivalent  to  walking  twice  the 


374  SIBEKIA 

ci  roil  inference  of  the  globe  at  the  equator,  one  can  appre- 
ciate the  indomitable  resolution  of  these  men,  and  the 
strc!iii-th  of  the  intiuence  that  draws  them  towards  home 
and  freedom.  In  the  j'ear  1884:,  13C0  such  byoiJijdgs  were 
recaptured  in  Western  Siberia  and  sent  back  to  the  mines 
of  the  Trans-Baikal,  and  hundreds  more  perished  from  cold 
and  starvation  in  the  forests.  M.  I.  Orfanof,  a  Russian 
officer  who  served  many  years  in  Eastern  Siberia,  says 
that  he  once  found  200  "Ivan  Dontremembers "  in  a 
single  prison — the  prison  of  Kaidalova,  between  Chita 
and  Nerchinsk.' 

Some  of  the  hrodydgs  with  whom  I  talked  were  men  of 
intelligence  and  education.  One  of  them,  who  was  greatly 
interested  in  our  photographic  apparatus,  and  who  seemed 
to  know  all  about  "  dry  plates,"  "  drop  shutters,"  and  "  Dall- 
meyer  lenses,"  asked  me  how  convicts  were  treated  in  the 
United  States,  and  whether  they  could,  by  extra  work, 
earn  a  little  money,  so  as  not  to  leave  prison  penniless. 
I  replied  that  in  most  American  penitentiaries  they  could. 

"  It  is  not  so,"  he  said,  "  with  us.  Naked  we  go  to  the 
mines,  and  naked  we  come  out  of  them ;  and  we  are  flogged, 
while  there,  at  the  whim  of  every  nariddchik.''^ " 

"Oh,  no!"  said  Captain  Gudim  good-naturedly,  "they 
don't  flog  at  the  mines  now." 

"  Yes,  they  do,  your  Nobility,"  replied  the  hrodydg  firmly 
but  respectfully.  "If  you  are  sick  or  weak,  and  can't 
finish  your  stent,  you  are  given  twenty  blows  with  the 
cat." 

I  should  have  been  glad  to  get  further  information  from 
the  hrodydg  with  regard  to  his  life  at  the  mines,  but  just  at 
this  moment  Captain  Gudim  asked  me  if  I  would  not  like 
to  see  the  loading  of  the  sick  and  infirm,  and  the  conver- 
sation was  interrupted. 

1  "  V '  Dali  "  (Afar),  by  M.  I.  OrMnof,  p.  226.     St.  Petersburg,  1883. 

2  A  petty  officer  who  directs  the  work  of  the  convicts  in  the  razreis  or  cutting, 
and  who  sets  their  tasks. 


DEPOETATION   BY   ETAPE 


375 


SICK  AND  INFIKM  EXILES  IN  TELISGAS. 


37G  SIBEllIA 

The  tcUgas  intended  for  prisoners  physically  unable  to 
walk  were  small  one-horse  carts,  without  springs  of  any 
kind,  and  with  only  one  seat,  in  front,  for  the  driver  and 
the  guard.  They  looked  to  me  like  the  halves  of  longi- 
tudinally bisected  hogsheads  mounted  upon  four  low 
wheels,  with  their  concave  sides  uppermost.  More  wretch- 
edly uncomfortable  vehicles  to  ride  in  were  never  devised. 
A  smaU  quantity  of  green  grass  had  been  put  into  each  one 
to  break  the  jolting  a  little,  and  upon  this  grass,  in  every 
cart,  were  to  sit  four  sick  or  disabled  convicts. 

"All  prisoners  who  have  certificates  from  the  doctor, 
step  out!"  shouted  Captain  G-udim,  and  twenty-five  or 
thirty  "  incapables  "  —  some  old  and  infirm,  some  pale  and 
emaciated  from  sickness  —  separated  themselves  from  the 
main  body  of  convicts  in  the  road.  An  under-officer  col- 
lected and  examined  their  certificates,  and  as  fast  as  their 
cases  were  approved  they  climbed  into  the  telegas.  One 
man,  although  apparently  sick,  was  evidently  a  malingerer,, 
since,  as  he  took  his  place  in  a  partly  filled  telega,  he  was 
greeted  with  a  storm  of  groans  and  hoots  from  the  whole- 
convict  party.^ 

The  number  of  prisoners  who,  when  they  leave  Tomsk,, 
are  unable  to  walk  is  sometimes  very  large.  In  the  year 
1884,  658  telegas  were  loaded  there  with  exiles  of  this  class, 
and  if  every  telega  held  four  persons  the  aggregate  num- 
ber of  "incapables"  must  have  exceeded  2500.^  Such  a 
state  of  things,  of  course,  is  the  natural  result  of  the 
overcrowding  of  the  Tomsk  forwarding  prison. 

When  the  sick  and  infirm  had  all  taken  the  places 
assigned  them  in  the  invalid  carts,  Captain  Gudim  took 
off  his  cap,  crossed  himself  and  bowed  in  the  direction 

1  Some  convicts  are  extremely  skil-  by  applying  irritating  decoctions  to  a 

ful  in  counterfeiting  the  symptoms  of  slight  self-inflicted  wound,    and  they 

disease,  and  will  now  and  then  succeed  even  poison  themselves  with  tobacco 

in  deceiving  even  an  experienced  prison  and  other  noxious  herbs, 

surgeon.     If  necessary  for  the  aecom-  2  Report  of  the  Inspector  of  Exila 

plishment  of  their  purpose,  they  do  not  Transportation  for  1884,  p.  31  of  the 

hesitate  to  create  artificial   swellings  MS. 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE 


377 


A  CONVICT  I'AKXr   TASSINCi  A  8I1KINK  NKAK  TOiMSK. 


378  SIBERIA 

of  the  prison  oliurcli,  and  then,  turning  to  the  convicts, 
cried,  "Well,  boys !     Go  ahead  !     A  safe  journey  to  you  ! " 

"Party  —  to  the  right!  Party  —  march!"  shouted  one 
of  the  under-officers,  and  with  a  clinking  of  chains  which 
sounded  like  the  jingling  of  innumerable  bunches  of  keys 
the  gray  throng,  hemmed  in  by  a  cordon  of  soldiers,  began 
its  long  journey  of  1800  miles  to  the  mines  of  the  Trans- 
Baikal.  The  marching  convicts,  who  took  the  lead,  were 
closely  followed  by  the  telegas  with  the  sick  and  the  infirm ; 
next  came  three  or  four  carts  loaded  with  gray  linen  bags ; 
and,  finally,  in  a  tdrdntas  behind  the  rear  guard  of  soldiers 
rode  Captain  Grudim,  the  naclidlnik  of  the  convoy.  The 
column  moved  at  the  rate  of  about  two  miles  an  hour ;  and 
long  before  noon  it  was  enveloped  in  a  suffocating  cloud  of 
dust  raised  by  the  shuffling,  fetter-incumbered  feet  of  the 
prisoners.  In  warm,  dry  weather,  when  there  is  no  wind, 
dust  is  a  source  of  great  misery  to  marching  parties  —  par- 
ticularly to  the  sick,  the  women,  and  the  children.  There 
is  no  possible  way  of  escaping  it,  and  when  a  prisoner  is 
suffering  from  one  of  the  diseases  of  the  respiratory  organs 
that  are  so  common  in  etajoe  life  it  is  simply  torture  to  sit 
in  a  cramped  position  for  six  or  eight  hours  in  an  open 
telega,  breathing  the  dust  raised  by  the  feet  of  350  men 
marching  in  close  column  just  ahead.  I  have  traced  the 
progress  of  an  invisible  exile  party  more  than  a  mile  away 
by  the  cloud  of  dust  that  hung  over  it  in  the  air. 

Five  or  six  miles  from  Tomsk  the  party  passed  a  chasov- 
naga,  or  roadside  shrine,  consisting  of  an  open  pavilion,  in 
which  hung  a  ghastly  wooden  effigy  of  the  crucified  Christ. 
Here,  as  upon  our  departure  from  Tomsk,  I  noticed  that 
two-thirds  of  the  convicts  removed  their  caps,  crossed  them- 
selves devoutly,  and  muttered  brief  supplications,  A  Eus- 
sian  peasant  may  be  a  highway  robber  or  a  murderer,  but  he 
continues,  nevertheless,  to  cross  himself  and  say  his  prayers. 

The  first  halt  of  the  party  for  rest  was  made  about  ten 
miles  from  Tomsk,  at  the  entrance  to  a  small  village.     Here, 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE 


379 


HALT   OF   A    CONVUrr   l-AHXY    FoK    l.UNCH. 


oSO  SIBERIA 

on  a  patoh  of  greensward  by  the  roadside,  had  assembled 
ten  or  twelve  girls  and  old  women  with  baskets  of  pro- 
visions, bottles  of  milk,  and  jugs  of  kvas,  or  small  beer,  for 
sale  to  the  prisoners.  At  first  sight  of  these  preparations  for 
their  refreshment,  the  experienced  brodijdf/s,  who  marched 
at  the  head  of  the  column,  raised  a  joyous  shout  of  Privdl! 
Prirdlf  —  the  exiles'  name  for  the  noonday  halt.  The  wel- 
come cry  was  passed  along  the  line  until  it  reached  the  last 
wagon  of  "  incapables,"  and  the  whole  party  perceptibly 
quickened  its  pace.  A  walk  of  ten  miles  does  not  much 
tire  a  healthy  and  unincumbered  man ;  but  to  convicts  who 
have  been  in  prison  without  exercise  for  months,  and  who 
are  hampered  by  five-pound  leg-fetters  united  by  chains 
that  clash  constantly  between  the  legs,  it  is  a  trying  exper- 
ience. In  less  than  a  minute  after  the  command  to  halt 
was  given,  almost  every  man  in  the  party  was  either  sitting 
on  the  ground  or  lying  upon  it  at  full  length.  After  a  short 
rest,  the  prisoners  began  buying  food  from  the  provision 
venders,  in  the  shape  of  black  rye-bread,  fish-pies,  hard- 
boiled  eggs,  milk,  and  kms,  and  in  half  an  hour  they  were 
all  sitting  on  the  ground,  singly  or  in  groups,  eating  their 
lunch.  With  the  permission  of  Captain  Gudlm,  Mr.  Frost 
took  a  photograph  of  them,  which  is  here  reproduced,  and 
about  two  o'clock  the  party  resumed  its  journey. 

The  afternoon  march  was  without  noteworthy  incident. 
The  hrodyd(js  talked  constantly  as  they  walked,  raising 
their  voices  so  as  to  make  themselves  heard  above  the  jing- 
ling of  the  chains,  while  the  novices  generally  listened  or 
asked  questions.  There  is  the  same  difference  between  a 
hrodydg  who  has  been  to  the  mines  half  a  dozen  times  and 
a  novice  who  is  going  for  the  first  time,  that  there  is  be- 
tween an  experienced  cowboy  and  a  "  tenderfoot."  The 
hrodydg  knows  the  road  as  the  tongue  knows  the  mouth ; 
he  has  an  experimental  acquaintance  with  the  temper  and 
character  of  every  convoy  officer  from  Tomsk  to  Kara ;  and 
his  perilous  adventures  in  the  taigd — the  primeval  Siberian 


DEPORTATION    BY   ETAPE 


381 


bkodyAgs"  ou  kunaway  convicts. 


382  SIBERIA 

forest linve  given  to  him  a  self-confidence  and  a  decision 

of  character  that  make  him  the  natural  leader  in  every  con- 
vict party.  It  is  the  boast  of  the  true  hrochjag  that  the 
ostr6()  [the  prison]  is  his  father  and  the  ta'ifid  [the  wilderness] 
his  mother ;  and  he  often  spends  his  whole  life  in  going 
from  one  parent  to  the  other.  He  rarely  escapes  from  Si- 
beria altogether,  although  he  may  reach  half  a  dozen  times 
the  valley  of  the  Ob.  Sooner  or  later  he  is  almost  always 
recaptured,  or  is  forced  by  cold  and  starvation  to  give  him- 
self up.  As  an  etape  officer  once  said  to  a  hrodydg  rear- 
rested in  Western  Siberia,  "The  Tsar's  cow-pasture  is  large, 
but  you  can't  get  out  of  it ;  we  find  you  at  last  if  you  are 
not  dead." 

The  conversation  of  the  hrodydgs  in  the  party  that  we 
accompanied  related  chiefly  to  their  own  exploits  and  ad- 
ventures at  the  mines  and  in  the  taiga,  and  it  did  not  seem 
to  be  restrained  in  the  least  by  the  presence  of  the  soldiers 
of  the  convoy. 

The  distance  from  Tomsk  to  the  first  polu-etape  is  twenty- 
nine  versts  (nearly  twenty  miles),  and  it  was  almost  dark 
before  the  tired  prisoners  caught  sight  of  the  serrated  pali- 
sade within  which  they  were  to  spend  their  first  night  on 
the  road. 

A  ^ihQYiMi  polu-etap)e,  or  half-way  station,  is  a  stockaded 
inelosure  about  100  feet  long  by  50  or  75  feet  wide,  contain- 
ing two  or  three  lowj  one-story  log  buildings.  One  of  these 
buildings  is  occupied  by  the  convoy  officer,  another  by  the 
soldiers,  and  the  third  and  largest  by  the  convicts.  The 
prisoners'  Jcamnn,  which  is  generally  painted  a  dirty  yellow,^ 
is  long  and  low,  and  contains  three  or  four  kdmeras,  each  of 
which  is  provided  with  a  brick  oven  and  a  double  row  of 
plank  ndri,  or  sleeping-platforms.  According  to  the  last 
ofiicial  report  of  the  inspector  of  exile  transportation,  which 
is  confirmed  by  my  own  observation,  "  all  of  the  etajjes  and 
p)olu-etapes  on  the  road  between  Tomsk  and  Achinsk  —  with 

1  Yellow  is  the  etape  color  throughout  Siberia. 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE 


383 


a  very  few  exceptions  —  are  not  only  too  small,  but  are  old 
and  decayed,  and  demand  capital  repairs."  Their  principal 
defect  is  that  which  is  characteristic  of  Siberian  prisons 
generally;  namely,   lack   of  adequate   room.     They  were 


1  iJl 


A  loLU-ETAl'li  0>i   TUli   iOMt'K-ACHINSK  KOAD. 

built  from  thirty  to  fifty  years  ago,  when  exile  parties 
did  not  number  more  than  150  men,  and  they  now  have  to 
accommodate  from  350  to  450.  The  result,  as  stated  by 
the  inspector  of  exile  transportation,  is  that  "  in  pleasant 
weather  half  the  prisoners  sleep  on  the  ground  in  the  court- 
yard, while  in  bad  weather  they  fill  all  the  kdmeras,  lie  on 
the  floors  in  the  corridors,  and  even  pack  the  garrets." 
The  cells  are  not  even  as  habitable  as  they  might  be 
made  with  a  little  care  and  attention.  They  are  almost 
always  dirty ;  their  windows  are  so  made  that  they  can- 
not be  opened ;  and  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  the  over- 
crowding, at  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  is  almx)st  beyond 


384  SIBERIA 

belief;  no  provision  whatever  has  been  made  in  them  for 
ventihition. 

When  our  convicts,  after  their  toilsome  march  of  twenty- 
nine  versts  from  Tomsk,  reached  at  last  the  red-roofed 
jwhi-ctape  of  Semiluzhnaya,  they  were  marshaled  in  rows 
in  front  of  the  palisade  and  again  carefully  counted  by  the 
under-oflacers  in  order  to  make  sure  that  none  had  escaped, 
and  then  the  wooden  gate  of  the  courtyard  was  thrown 
wide  open.  With  a  wdld,  mad  rush  and  a  furious  clash- 
ing of  chains,  more  than  three  hundred  men  made  a  sud- 
den break  for  the  narrow  gateway,  struggled,  fought,  and 
crowded  through  it,  and  then  burst  into  the  kdmeras,  in 
order  to  secure,  by  preoccupation,  places  on  the  sleeping- 
platforms.  Every  man  knew  that  if  he  did  not  succeed  in 
preempting  a  section  of  the  ndri  he  would  have  to  lie  on 
the  dirty  floor,  in  one  of  the  cold  corridors,  or  out-of-doors ; 
and  many  prisoners  who  did  not  care  particularly  where 
they  slept  sought  to  secure  good  places  in  order  to  sell  them 
afterward  for  a  few  ko2)eks  to  less  fortunate  but  more  fas- 
tidious comrades. 

At  last  the  tumult  subsided,  and  the  convicts  began  their 
preparations  for  supper.  Hot  water  was  furnished  by  the 
soldiers  of  the  convoy  at  an  average  price  of  about  a  cent 
a  teakettleful ;  "  brick"  tea  was  made  by  the  prisoners  who 
were  wealthy  enough  to  afford  such  a  luxury;"  soup  was 
obtained  by  a  few  from  the  soldiers'  kitchen ;  and  the  tired 
exiles,  sitting  on  the  sleeping-platforms  or  on  the  floor,  ate 

1  The   well-known   Eussian   author  less   than  500,    and    sometimes  held 

Maximof  cites   a   ease  in  which  512  more   than  800.     ("Afar,"  by  M.   I. 

human  beings  were  packed  into  one  Orfanof,  p.  220.    St.  Petersburg,  1883.) 

of  these   etajies  in   Western   Siberia  2  Brick  tea  is  made  of  a  cheap  grade 

("  Siberia  and  Penal  Servitude,"  by  of  tea-leaves,  mixed  with  stems  and  a 

S.  Maximof,  Vol.  I,  p.  81.     St.  Peters-  little  adhesive  gum,  and  pressed  into 

burg,  1871) ;  and  Mr.  M.  I.  Orfanof,  a  hard  dry  cakes  about  eight  inches  in 

Russian  officer  who  served  ten  years  length,  five  inches  in  width,  and  an 

in  Siberia,  reports  that    an  East-Si-  inch  and  a  half  in  thickness.     It  re- 

berian    etape    (at    V^rkhni   IJdinsk),  sembles  in   appearance   and    consis- 

which  was  intended  for  140  prisoners,  tency  the  blackest  kind  of  "plug" 

never  contained,  when  he  visited  it,  tobacco. 


DEPORTATION    BY   ETAPE 


385 


the  black  bread,  the  fish-pies,  or  the  cold  boiled  meat  that 
they  had  pui'chased  from  the  provision  venders.  The  even- 
ing meal  is  sometimes  an  exceedingly  scanty  one,  on  account 


of  the  failure  of  the  peasant  women  to  bring  to  the  etape 
for  sale  an  adequate  supply  of  food.  They  are  not  obliged 
to  furnish  subsistence  to  convicts  on  the  road,  and  the  exile 
administration  attempts  no  regulation  of  the  commissariat 
25 


38G  SIBERIA 

beyond  furnishing  the  prisoners  with  money  for  rations, 
and  allowing  the  peasants  or  the  soldiers  of  the  convoy  to 
act  as  purveyors.  In  times  of  scarcity  it  is  impossible  to 
bny,  with  the  money  given  to  each  exile  for  his  subsistence, 
enough  food  to  satisfy  hunger.  In  one  district  of  Eastern 
Siberia,  where  there  had  been  a  partial  failure  of  the  crops, 
the  exiles  could  scarcely  buy,  with  five  cents  a  day,  a  pound 
and  a  half  of  black  rye  bread.  The  etape  officers  complained 
bitterly  to  me  of  the  indifference  of  the  Government  to  the 
sufferings  of  the  prisoners,  and  declared  that  it  was  unjust 
and  cruel  to  give  men  only  a  pound  and  a  half  of  black 
bread,  and  at  the  same  time  force  them  to  march  twenty 
miles  a  day  in  leg-fetters,  and  in  bitterly  cold  weather.^ 

After  supper  the  roll  of  the  party  was  called  in  the 
courtyard ;  a  sentrj^  was  stationed  at  each  corner  of  the 
quadrangular  stockade,  and  another  at  the  gate ;  a  cheap 
tallow-candle  was  lighted  in  each  hdmera;  pardshas,  or 
large  uncovered  wooden  tubs  for  excrement,  were  placed 
in  the  cells  and  corridors ;  and  the  prisoners  were  locked  up 
for  the  night.  More  than  half  the  party  lay  on  the  dirty 
floors  without  blankets  or  pillows,  and  the  atmosphere  of 
the  rooms  in  the  course  of  the  night  became  foul  and 
polluted  to  an  extent  that  can  be  imagined  only  by  one 
who  has  been  present  at  the  opening  of  the  doors  in  the 
morning.  How  human  beings,  under  such  conditions, 
live  to  reach  the  mines  of  Kara,  I  do  not  know.  It  was  my 
intention  to  ask  a  friendly  etap)e  officer  to  allow  me  to  spend 
one  night  with  the  convicts  in  an  etape  hdmera ;  but  after 

1  This  was  in  the  Verkhni  Udinsk  know,  to  the  complaints  and  sugges- 
distriet  of  the  Trans-Baikal.  Accord-  tions  of  the  e'to/jeofl&cers,  notwithstand- 
ing to  the  statements  made  to  me  by  ing  the  fact  that  a  circular  had  been 
the  etape  officers,  black  bread  of  the  issued  by  the  Prison  and  Exile  Depart- 
poorest  qiiality  cost  from  six  to  seven  ment  providing  for  such  an  exigency, 
kopeks  a  pound,  and  the  prisoners  re-  and  reqiiesting  the  Siberian  governors 
ceived  only  eleven  kopeks  a  day.  This  to  increase,  in  times  of  scarcity,  the 
state  of  affairs  existed  throughout  the  daily  allowance  of  prisoners  on  the 
entire  fall  of  1885,  growing  worse  and  road.  (Circular  Letter  of  the  Prison 
worse  as  winter  came  on.  No  atten-  and  Exile  Department,  No.  10,887, 
tion  whatever  was  paid,   so  far  as  I  December  15,  1880.) 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE. 


387 


breathing  the  ail*  of  one  of 
those  cells  when  the  doors 
were  reopened  in  the  morn- 
ing, I  decided  not  to  make 
the  experiment. 

The  second  day's  march 
of  the  convict  party  that  left 
Tomsk  on  the  24th  of  August 
differed  little  from  the  first. 
A  hasty  and  rather  scanty 
breakfast  in  the  kdmeras  was 
followed  by  the  assembling 
of  the  contacts,  the  morn- 
ing roll-call,  and  the  depar- 
ture ;  the  day's  journey  was 
again  broken  by  the  privdl, 
or  halt  for  lunch  ;  and  early 
in  the  afternoon  the  party 
reached  the  first  regular 
etape,  where  it  was  to  change 
convoys  and  stop  one  day  for 
rest. 

The  eta2)e  differs  from  the 
polu-etape  only  in  size  and  in 
the  arrangement  of  its  build- 
ings. 

The  courtyard  is  more  spa- 
cious, and  the  kdmeras  are  a 


Sololiert 
9uSrters 

Ba-^ 

hZL 

r,a>r>e'i 

Ebpe     Cou.rtya.tdl 

Kamerj, 

'--=- 

Convoy 
Officers 
hou-se 

Qit 

e 

Kline  ra 

Ka.rncr4. 

PLAN   OF   ABOVE. 


little  larger  than  in  the  polu- 
etape;  but  the  buildings  are 
old  and  in  bad  repair,  and 
there  is  not  room  enough  in 
them  for  half  the  number 
of  prisoners  now  :^orwarded 
in  every  party.  General 
Aniichin,  the  governor-gen- 


388  SIBERIA 

era!  of  Eastern  Siberia,  who  saw  the  etapfs  along  the  great 
Siberian  road  at  their  best,  describes  thein,  in  a  report  to 
the  Tsar,  as  follows: 

During-  my  journey  to  Irkiitsk  I  inspected  a  great  number  of 
penal  institutions,  including  city  prisons,  forwarding  prisons,  and 
(tapes ;  and  I  regret  to  have  to  say  that  most  of  them  are  in  a 
lamentable  condition.  The  Hapes  are  particularly  bad.  With  a 
very  few  exceptions  they  are  tumble-down  buildings,  in  bad  sani- 
tary condition,  cold  in  winter,  saturated  with  miasm,  and  offering 
very  little  security  against  escapes.^ 

I  have  not  myself  said  anything  worse  of  etapes  than  this. 
If  these  buildings,  after  they  had  been  put  in  the  best  pos- 
sible condition  for  the  governor-general's  inspection,  made 
upon  him  such  an  impression  as  this,  the  reader  can  imagine 
what  impression  they  made  upon  me,  when  I  saw  them  in 
their  every-day  aspect.  I  am  quite  content,  however,  to  let 
Governor-general  Anlichin's  description  stand  as  my  own, 
with  a  few  qualifications  and  exceptions.  All  of  the  etapes 
on  the  Tomsk-Irkutsk  road  are  not  of  this  character.  I 
examined  one  at  the  village  of  Itatskaya,  near  Marinsk, 
which  was  clean,  well  cared  for,  and  in  perfect  order,  and  I 
have  little  doubt  that  if  I  had  had  time  to  visit  every  exile  sta- 
tion-house on  the  road,  I  should  have  found  many  to  which 
the  governor-general's  description  would  not  fairly  apply. 
In  the  main,  however,  it  is  truthful  and  accurate. 

The  "lamentable  condition"  of  the  Siberian  etapes  seems 
to  me  to  be  mainly  attributable  to  corrupt  and  incapable 
administration,  and  to  the  inherent  defects  of  a  bureau- 
cratic system  of  government.  For  these  very  etapes,  bad 
as  they  are,  an  immense  amount  of  money  has  been  appro- 
priated ;  but  the  greater  part  of  it  has  been  divided  between 
fraudulent  contractors  and  corrupt  Grovernment  officials. 
An  inspector  of  exile  transportation,  who  had  excellent  op- 
portunities to  know  the  facts,  told  me  that  it  was  hardly  an 

1  First  and  second  reports  of  Governor-general  Anuchin  to  the  Tsar.  Ap- 
pendix H. 


DEPORTATION   BY  ETAPE  389 

exaggeration  to  say  that  if  all  the  money  that  had  been 
appropriated  for  the  construction  and  maintenance  of  these 
"tumble-down  buildings"  could  now  be  gathered  together,  < 
it  would  be  enough  to  pay  for  the  erection  of  a  line  of 
solid  silver  etapes  along  the  whole  route  from  Tomsk  to 
the  city  of  Irkutsk.  Governor-general  Anuchin  himself 
says,  in  the  same  report  to  the  Tsar  from  which  I  have 
already  quoted: 

Large  sums  of  money  have  been  spent  in  repairs  upon  these 
buildings,  and  250,000  riibles  have  recently  been  appropriated  for 
the  erection  of  new  etapes  in  the  territory  of  the  Trans-Baikal. 
I  doubt,  however,  whether  it  will  be  possible  to  accomplish  any- 
thing of  serious  importance  without  a  change  in  the  existing  con- 
ditions. There  is  even  danger  that  the  new  etapes  in  the  territory 
of  the  Trans-Baikal  will  share  the  fate  of  the  etapes  in  the  provinces 
of  Yeniseisk  and  Irkutsk. 

General  Aniichin's  foreboding  has  been  fully  justified. 
Both  the  inspector  of  exile  transportation  for  Eastern 
Siberia  and  the  assistant  chief  of  the  prison  department 
in  St.  Petersbui'g  admitted  to  me  that  the  new  etapes  in  the 
Trans-Baikal  were  "  very  unsatisfactory." 

Our  convict  party  spent  Tuesday  night  in  the  first  regu- 
lar etape  at  Khaldeyeva,  under  almost  precisely  the  same 
conditions  that  prevailed  the  previous  night  in  the  polii- 
etape  of  Semiluzhnaya.  Half  the  prisoners  slept  on  the 
floor,  under  the  ndri,  and  in  the  corridors,  breathing  all 
night  an  atmosphere  poisoned  by  cai'bonic  acid  and  exhala- 
tions from  uncovered  pardslms.  Wednesday  was  a  day  of 
rest;  and  the  exiles  lounged  about  all  day  in  the  prison 
com-tyard,  or  studied  the  "  record  of  current  events,"  on  the 
walls  of  the  etapes.  The  sleeping-platforms  and  the  walls 
of  every  Siberian  etape  bear  countless  inscriptions,  left  there 
by  the  exiles  of  one  party  for  the  information  or  instruction 
of  their  comrades  in  the  next.  Among  such  inscriptions 
are  messages  and  greetings  to  friends ;  hints  and  sugges- 
tions for  hrodydgs  who  meditate  escape;   names  of  exiles 


390  SIBERIA 

who  have  died,  broken  jail,  or  been  recaptm-ed ;  and  items 
of  news,  of  all  sorts,  from  the  mines  and  the  forwarding 
prisons.  For  the  convicts,  therefore,  the  etape  walls  are 
equivalent  to  so  many  pages  of  a  daily  newspaper,  contain- 
ing an  exile  directory,  open  letters,  obituary  notices,  a 
puzzle  department  of  Irodydfi  ciphers,  and  a  personal  intel- 
ligence column  of  the  highest  interest  to  all  "  travelers  on 
Government  account."  One  of  the  first  things  that  an 
experienced  con\ict  does,  after  his  arrival  at  an  etape,  is  to 
search  the  walls  for  news ;  and  his  fortunes  not  infrequently 
tm-n  upon  the  direction  or  the  warning  contained  in  a 
message  that  he  finds  there  from  a  comrade  who  has  pre- 
ceded him.  Mr.  Galkine  Wrasskoy,  chief  of  the  prison 
administration,  has  come  at  last  to  appreciate  the  signifi- 
cance and  importance  of  these  mural  inscriptions,  and  has 
recently  ordered  etape  officers  to  see  that  they  are  carefully 
erased.  I  doubt,  however,  whether  the  order  will  secm^e  the 
desired  results.  The  prison  authorities  are  constantly  out- 
witted by  convicts,  and  the  latter  will  soon  learn  to  write 
their  messages  in  places  where  an  etape  officer  would  never 
think  of  looking  for  them,  but  where  an  experienced  convict 
will  discover  them  at  once. 

Soon  after  leaving  Tomsk,  usually  at  the  fii-st  regular  etape^ 
every  exile  party  organizes  itself  into  an  artel^  or  "union," 
elects  a  chief  or  head  man  known  as  the  stdrosta,  and  lays 
the  foundation  of  an  artel  fund  by  levying  an  assessment 
upon  each  of  its  members,  and  by  selling  at  auction  to  the 
highest  bidder  the  privilege  of  keeping  an  exile  sutler's  store 
or  maiddn,  where  the  prisoners  can  openly  buy  tea,  sugar,  or 
white  bread,  and  where  they  can  secretly  obtain  tobacco, 
playing-cards,  and  intoxicating  liquor.  The  organization 
of  the  party  into  an  artel  has  for  its  primary  object  con- 
certed and  combined  action  against  the  common  enemy — 
the  Government.  A  single  convict,  regarded  as  an  individual, 
has  neither  rights  nor  means  of  self-defense.  He  is  com- 
pletely at  the  mercy,  not  only  of  the  higher  authorities  in 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE  391 

the  forwarding  prisons  and  the  provincial  towns,  but  of 
every  petty  officer  in  the  convoy  command  that  escorts  him 
from  etape  to  etape;  and  the  only  way  in  which  he  can 
acquire  even  a  limited  power  of  self-protection  is  by  as- 
sociating himself  with  his  fellow-con\dcts  in  an  artel,  or 
union.  This  artel,  as  an  organized  body,  exercises  all  of  its 
functions  in  secret,  and  strives  to  attain  its  ends,  first,  by 
enforcing  solidarity  and  joint  action  on  the  part  of  all  its 
members,  and,  secondly,  by  deceiving,  outwitting,  or  bribing 
the  officers  and  soldiers  with  whom  it  has  to  deal.  It  concerts 
plans  of  escape;  it  contrives  means  of  obtaining  forbidden 
articles,  such  as  playing-cards  and  tobacco;  it  hu*es  telegas, 
or  sleighs,  from  the  peasants  along  the  road,  and  sells,  or 
gi'ants,  to  its  members  the  pri\dlege  of  riding  in  them  for 
short  distances  when  exhausted;  it  bribes  executioners  to 
flog  lightly;  it  pays  soldiers  for  smuggling  intoxicating  liquor 
into  the  forwarding  prisons  and  etapes;  and,  finally,  it  sanc- 
tions and  enforces  all  contracts  and  agreements  entered  into 
by  its  convict  members.  It  is,  in  short,  the  body  politic  of 
the  criminal  world;  and  it  fills,  in  the  life  of  the  exile,  the 
same  place  that  the  mir,  or  commune,  fills  in  the  life  of  the 
free  peasant.  Within  the  limits  of  its  prison  environment 
the  power  of  the  artel  over  its  members  is  absolute.  It  has 
its  own  unwritten  laws,  its  own  standards  of  honor  and 
duty,  and  its  own  penal  code.  Its  laws  recognize  only  two 
crimes, — disobedience  and  disloyalty, — and  its  penal  code 
provides  for  only  one  punishment — death.  The  exile  may 
lie,  he  may  rob,  he  may  murder  if  he  mil,  provided  his  action 
does  not  affect  injuriously  the  interests  of  the  artel  to  which 
he  belongs;  but  if  he  disobeys  that  organization,  or  betrays 
its  secrets  to  the  prison  authorities, — even  imder  the  com- 
pulsion of  the  lash, — he  may  count  himself  as  dead  already. 
Siberia  is  not  large  enough  to  fm^nish  a  safe  hiding-place 
for  the  exile  who  has  been  unfaithful  to  his  artel.  More 
than  once,  in  the  large  convict  prisons,  I  saw  criminals  who 
had  been  condemned  to  death  as  traitors  by  this  merciless 


392  SIBERIA 

Siberian  Yelinigerichte,  who,  therefore,  dared  not  associate 
witli  their  t'(4k>w-prisoners,  and  who  were  Hving,  by  permis- 
sion of  the  prison  authorities,  in  the  strictest  soHtary  con- 
finement. Over  the  head  of  every  one  of  these  men  hung 
an  invisible  sword  of  Damocles,  and  sooner  or  later,  in  one 
place  or  another,  it  was  sure  to  fall.  The  records  of  Russian 
prisons  are  full  of  cases  in  which  the  sentence  of  death  pro- 
nounced by  an  artel  has  been  executed  years  afterwards,  and 
in  a  place  far  removed  from  the  scene  of  the  offense.  In 
one  recent  case  the  traitor  was  choked  to  death  one  night, 
at  sea,  while  on  his  way  in  a  convict  steamer  to  the  island  of 
Saghalin,  and  in  another  the  informer  was  found  one  morning 
^Wth  his  throat  cut  in  a  Caucasian  etoj^e. 

The  prison  officials  throughout  Siberia  have  long  been 
aware  of  the  existence  of  this  secret  criminal  organization, 
but  they  have  never  been  able  to  suppress  it,  and  they  now 
give  to  it  a  certain  sort  of  recognition— putting  up  with  its 
ine\^table  e\als  and  making  the  most  of  its  merits.  A  con- 
voy officer,  for  example,  wishes  to  be  able  to  report  to  his 
superior  at  the  end  of  the  year  that  not  a  single  exile  has 
escaped  while  in  his  charge.  He  summons  the  stdrosta,  or 
chief  of  the  artel,  and  says  to  him,  "Call  the  boys  together 
and  tell  them,  from  me,  that  if  the  artel  will  agi'ee  not  to 
allow  any  escapes  from  the  party  on  my  beat,  I  will  look 
the  other  way  when  they  take  off  their  leg-fetters."'  The 
stdrosta  replies,  "Slushiu,  S'"  [I  hear,  sir],  and  goes  back 
into  the  kdmera  to  lay  this  proposition  before  the  artel 
The  artel  accepts  it,  and  every  chained  con\dct  begins 
pounding  at  the  ankle-bands  of  his  leg-fetters.  The  con- 
voy officer,  of  com-se,  has  himself  committed  a  penal  offense 
in  entering  into  this  sort  of  an  agreement,  but  he  knows 
that  the  artel  will  never  betray  him,  and  he  is  relieved  at 
once  from  all  anxiety  with  regard  to  escapes.    If,  after  the 

1  The   ankle-bands   of  Russian  leg-  ally  be  slipped  off  over  the  heel.     Of 

fetters  fit  so  loosely  that  when  they  eoui-se  this  cannot  be  done,  however, 

have  been  pounded  with  a  stone  into  without  the  connivance  of  the  convoy 

the  form  of  an  ellipse  they  can  gener-  oflScers  and  the  soldiers  of  the  guard. 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE  393 

negotiation  of  such  a  treaty,  an  exile  should  attempt  to  get 
away  from  the  party  within  the  limits  of  that  officer's  jm'is- 
dictiou,  he  would  have  to  answer  for  it  to  the  artel^  and 
sooner  or  later  he  would  pay  dearly — perhaps  with  his  life 
— for  thus  breaking  faith  and  dishonoring  the  organization 
of  which  he  was  a  member.  The  late  Colonel  Zagarin,  in- 
spector of  exile  transportation  for  Eastern  Siberia,  told  me 
that  he  himself  had  often  made  a  substantial  contribution 
to  the  fmid  of  an  exile  artel  merely  in  order  to  secm^e  from 
the  latter  a  promise  that  no  attempts  to  escape  should  be 
made  within  the  limits  of  his  jmisdiction.  Such  promises, 
he  said,  were  always  faithfully  observed  by  the  artel  in  its 
corporate  capacity,  and  were  rarely  disregarded  even  by 
indi\dduals.  If,  however,  an  inexperienced  "fii'st-timer," 
tempted  by  a  favorable  opportunity,  should  try  to  escape, 
in  defiance  of  the  arteVs  prohibition,  the  veterans  of  the 
party,  namely,  the  hrodydgs,  would  always  undertake  either 
to  recapture  the  fugitive,  or  to  bring  in  some  other  run- 
away convict  as  a  substitute,  and  thus  save  the  honor  of 
the  artel.  He  could  not  remember  a  single  case,  he  said, 
in  which  the  artel  had  broken  faith.  It  must  not  be  sup- 
posed, however,  that  the  prison  commune,  in  such  dealings 
with  the  authorities,  is  actuated  by  any  high  or  honorable 
motives.  In  keeping  its  promise,  in  enforcing  solidarity, 
and  in  punishing  disloyalty  and  disobedience  with  death,  it 
is  merely  protecting  its  own  existence  and  securing  what  a 
majority  of  its  members  believe  to  be  the  greatest  good  of 
the  greatest  number.  It  has  no  sentimental  regard  for 
truthfulness  or  faithfulness  in  the  abstract.  It  simply 
knows  that,  at  certain  times  and  in  certain  circumstances, 
honesty  is  the  best  policy,  and  then  it  enforces  honesty 
under  penalty  of  death.  If,  however,  circumstances  so 
change  as  to  render  dishonesty  the  best  policy,  then  the 
artel  sanctions  and  compels  the  practice  of  deception,  fraud, 
untruthfulness,  and  treachery,  under  the  same  tremendous 
penalty. 


394  SIBERIA 

Cue  of  tlio  most  important  functions  of  the  exile  artel  is 
the  enforoement  of  agveemonts  entered  into  by  its  members, 
and  particularly  agreements  to  exchange  names  and  identi- 
ties.   Every  exile  party  is  made  np  of  two  great  classes, 
namely:  A  —  criminals  sentenced  to  hard  labor  with  im- 
prisonment; and  B  —  criminals  sentenced  merely  to  forced 
colonization  A\itliout  imprisonment.     Every  convict  in  class 
"  A  "  strives  to  escape  the  hard  labor  and  the  imprisonment 
by  exchanging  his  name  and  identity  for  the  name  and 
identity  of  some  convict  in  class  "  B."    It  would  seem,  at 
lirst  thought,  as  if  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  such  a 
transaction  would  be  ^drtually  insuperable.     It  is  not  only 
strictly  forbidden  by  law,  but  it  is  a  transaction  in  which  one 
of  the  parties,  apparently,  gets  all  the  benefit.    Wliy  should 
convoy  officers  allow  such  exchanges  of  names,  and  why 
should  the  colonist  be  willing  to  go  to  the  mines  in  the 
place  of  the  hard-labor  convict,  even  if  permitted  to  do  so  f 
The  difficulties  are  only  apparent,  and  the  questions  are 
easily  answered.    The  convicts  in  every  marching  party 
that  leaves  Tomsk  for  Eastern  Siberia  number  about  400, 
and  they  change  convoy  every  third  day.     It  is  utterly  im- 
possible for  a  convoy  officer  to  so  familiarize  himself,  in 
three  days,  with  the  faces  of  400  convicts,  that  he  can  tell 
one  from  another.     If  Ivan  Pavlof  answers  to  the  name  of 
Mikhaiel  Ivanof  at  the  roll-call  of  the  party,  he  virtually 
becomes  Mikhaiel   Ivanof.     The  convoy  officer  does  not 
know  either  of  them  by  sight,  and  even  if  he  called  the  roll 
himself,  and  looked  attentively  at  every  man,  he  would  not 
notice  the  substitution.     So  far  as  the  authorities  are  con- 
cerned, therefore,  names  and  identities  can  be  exchanged 
without  the  least  difficulty  or  danger.     The  willingness  of 
the  colonist  to  exchange  names  with  the  hard-labor  convict 
and  go  into  penal  servitude  in  the  latter's  stead  may  be  ex- 
plained almost  as  easily. 

In  every  exile  party  there  are  a  few  reckless,  improvident, 
hard-drinking  peasants  who  have  been  condemned  to  forced 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE  395 

colonization.  When  one  of  these  poor  wi-etches  has  spent 
all  his  money,  and  perhaps  has  gambled  away  all  of  his 
clothing  and  mortgaged  his  food-allowance  for  weeks  in 
advance,  he  gets  into  such  a  condition  that  for  five  or  ten 
rubles  and  a  bottle  of  vodka  he  will  sell  his  very  soul.  The 
hard-labor  convict,  who  is  generally  a  bold,  enterprising, 
experienced  recidivist,  and  a  man,  moreover,  who  has  won 
and  saved  some  money  on  the  road,  then  approaches  the 
hungry,  thirsty,  half -naked,  and  wholly  destitute  colonist, 
and  says  to  him,  "  If  you  will  exchange  names  with  me  and 
go  in  my  place  to  the  mines,  I  '11  give  you  my  warm  shuba 
[overcoat],  five  rubles  in  money,  and  a  bottle  of  vodJca.  You 
won't  have  to  stay  at  the  mines  long.  After  I  have  had 
time  to  reach  your  place  of  colonization  and  run  away,  you 
can  tell  the  nacJidlnik  [chief]  at  the  mines  who  you  really 
are,  and  say  that  you  have  been  sent  there  by  mistake.  He 
will  make  inquiries,  and  as  soon  as  he  finds  out  that  you  are 
not  me,  he  will  send  you  back  to  your  place  of  colonization ; 
and  then  we  '11  both  be  all  right." 

The  persuasive  eloquence  of  the  hard-labor  convict, 
backed  by  five  rubles,  a  warm  shuba,  and  a  bottle  of  vodka, 
is  generally  too  much  for  the  resolution  of  the  unfortunate 
colonist.  He  consents  to  the  proposed  exchange  of  names 
and  identities,  and  the  artel  is  at  once  convened  to  note, 
sanction,  and  mentally  record  the  transaction.  At  the  next 
and  at  every  subsequent  roll-call  of  the  party,  the  hard- 
labor  convict  answers  to  the  name  of  the  colonist,  and  the 
colonist  must  answer  to  the  name  of  the  hard-labor  convict. 
The  more  dangerous  criminal,  who,  perhaps,  should  serve 
out  a  life  sentence  at  the  mines  for  murder,  is  turned  loose 
in  some  East-Siberian  village  from  which  he  immediately 
makes  his  escape,  while  the  petty  thief,  drunkard,  or  wife- 
beater  goes  into  penal  servitude  at  the  mines  of  Nerchinsk 
or  Kara. 

Although  the  exchanging  of  names  has  been  practised  by 
convicts  in  Siberia  from  time  immemorial,  and  although  it 


396  SIBERIA 

is  manifestly  unjust,  prejudicial  to  the  interests  of  the  state, 
and  (letriniontal  in  the  liii;liest  degree  to  the  welfare  of  the 
Siberian  people,  all  suggestions  made  by  experienced  etape 
officers  with  regard  to  methods  of  stopping  it  have  been 
disregarded.  Ten  years  ago  Colonel  Zagarin,  the  inspector 
of  exile  transportation  for  Eastern  Siberia,  made  a  report 
upon  the  subject  to  Governor-general  Anuchin  in  which  he 
recommended  that  hard-labor  convicts,  as  a  class,  be  made 
distinguishable  from  forced  colonists,  as  a  class,  by  means 
of  a  different  shaving  of  the  head.  Both  classes  now  have 
their  heads  half  shaven  on  the  same  side.  Colonel  Zagarin 
suggested  that  the  heads  of  all  hard-labor  convicts  be 
shaved  on  the  right  side  and  of  all  forced  colonists  on  the 
left.  The  exchanging  of  names  and  identities  between  the 
two  classes  would  then  become  impossible,  for  the  reason 
that  every  etape  officer  and  every  soldier  of  the  convoy 
could  see  at  a  glance  to  which  class  any  particular  criminal 
belonged.  The  forced  colonist  Ivan  Pavlof  might  answer, 
as  before,  to  the  name  of  the  hard-labor  convict  Mikhaiel 
Ivanof  at  roll-call,  but  it  would  be  perfectly  useless  to 
do  so,  because  the  cut  of  his  hair  would  at  once  betray 
him. 

"What  did  the  governor-general  say  to  your  suggestion?" 
I  inquired,  when  Colonel  Zagarin  finished  telling  me  about 
this  report. 

"Nothing,"  he  replied.  "It  was  never  acted  upon.  Anu- 
chin referred,  even  in  his  report  to  the  Gossudar,  to  the  bad 
results  of  this  practice  of  changing  names,  but  he  never 
tried  to  stop  it  in  the  way  that  I  suggested." 

"What  preposterous  stupidity!"  I  exclaimed.  "The 
method  is  simplicity  itself,  it  would  cost  nothing,  and  it 
would  make  the  exchanging  of  names  absolutely  impos- 
sible. What  conceivable  reason  could  Anuchin  have  for 
not  adopting  it!" 

"I  don't  know  any  reason,"  replied  Colonel  Zagarin,  "ex- 
cept that  he  did  n't  happen  to  think  of  it  himself.     Our  high 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE  397 

officials  don't  take  suggestions  very  kindly — especially  from 
their  subordinates."  ^ 

Since  my  return  from  Siberia  an  attempt  has  been  made 
to  secm'e  certainty  of  identification  in  criminal  parties  by 
means  of  small  photographs  of  the  eon\dcts  attached  to  their 
stateini  spiski,  but  I  do  not  know  how  it  has  resulted. 

Deportation  by  e%je  in  Siberia  is  attended  by  miseries 
and  hmniliations  of  which  a  Em'opean  or  an  American 
reader  can  form  only  a  faint  conception.  I  had  many  op- 
portunities, dm-ing  om*  jom'ney  from  Tomsk  to  Irkutsk,  to 
see  convicts  on  the  march  in  sunshine  and  in  rain;  to  in- 
spect the  wi'etched  etapes  in  which  they  were  herded  like 
cattle  at  night;  to  visit  the  lazarets  where  they  sometimes 
lie  sick  for  weeks  without  skilled  medical  attention  or 
proper  care;  and  to  talk  with  intelligent  officers  of  the 
prison  department  who  had  been  familiar  for  years  with 
every  feature  of  the  exile  system.  The  result  of  my  inves- 
tigation was  a  deliberate  con\dction  that  the  suffering  in- 
volved in  the  present  method  of  transporting  criminals  to 
Siberia  is  not  paralleled  by  anything  of  the  kind  that  now 
exists  in  the  ci\ilized  world  outside  of  the  Russian  Empire. 
Some  of  this  suffering  is  due,  of  com'se,  to  negligence,  indif- 
ference, or  official  corruption;  but  a  very  large  part  of  it  is 
the  necessary  result  of  a  bad  and  cruel  system,  and  it  can 
be  removed  only  by  the  complete  abolition  of  the  sj^stem  it- 
self, and  by  the  substitution  for  it  of  imprisonment  for  life, 

1  This  remark,  "Our  high   officials  evils  that  had  been  found,  in  practice, 

don't  take  suggestions  very  kindly,"  to  arise.     Most  of  these  suggestions 

was  made  to  me,  in  substance,  by  at  seemed  to  me  to  be  wise  and  judicious, 

least  a  dozen  experienced  officers  of  and  all  of  them  deserved  serious  and 

the  exile  administration  in  Siberia,  in-  attentive  consideration.     Not  one,  so 

eluding  the  inspector  of  exile  transpor-  far  as  I  know,  was  ever  adopted,  and 

tation,  the  warden  of  one  of  the  largest  in  several  cases  the  higher  authorities 

of  the  convict  prisons,  and  two   sue-  distinctly  intimated  to  their  over-zeal- 

cessive  governors  of  the  Kara  mines,  ous  subordinates  that  when  they  —  the 

I  have,  in  my  note-books,  a  score  or  higher  authorities  —  felt  themselves  to 

more  of  suggestions  made  by  these  of-  be  in  need  of  information  or  advice, 

fleers  to  their  superiors  with  regard  to  they  would  make  a  requisition  for  it 

methods  of  reforming  the   exile   sys-  in  due  form, 
tern,  or  of  dealing  with  some  of  the 


398 


SIBERIA 


or  for  a  term  of  years,  in  European  Russia.  Only  a  mo- 
niont'S  refl(H»tion  is  neiMled  to  satisfy  any  one  that,  even 
imder  tlie  most  favorable  circumstances,  six  or  eight  thou- 
sand men,  women,  and  children  cannot  march  two  thou- 


'11)11 


sand  miles  across  such  a  country  as  Eastern  Siberia  with- 
out suffering  terrible  hardships.  The  physical  exposm'e 
alone  is  enough  to  break  down  the  health  and  strength  of 
all  except  the  most  hardy,  and  when  to  such  inevitable 
exposure  are  added  insufficient  clothing,  bad  food,  the  pol- 
luted air  of  overcrowded  etapes,  and  the  almost  complete 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE  399 

absence  of  medical  care  and  attention,  one  is  sm^prised,  not 
that  so  many  die,  but  that  so  many  get  through  alive. 

The  exile  parties  that  leave  Tomsk  in  July  and  August 
are  overtaken  by  the  frosts  and  the  cold  rains  of  autumn 
long  before  they  reach  Irkutsk.  They  have  not  yet  been 
supplied  with  winter  clothing,  and  most  of  them  have  no 
better  protection  from  rain,  sleet,  or  cold  wind  than  that 
afforded  by  a  coarse  linen  shirt,  a  pair  of  linen  di'awers,  and 
a  gray  frieze  overcoat.  Imagine  such  a  party  marching  in  a 
cold,  northeast  storm  along  the  road  over  which  we  passed 
between  Achinsk  and  Krasnoyarsk.  Every  individual  is 
wet  to  the  skin  by  the  drenching  rain,  and  the  nm-sing 
women,  the  small  children,  and  the  sick  lie  quivering  on 
water-soaked  straw  in  small,  rude  telegas^  without  even  a 
pretense  of  shelter  from  the  storm.  The  mud,  in  places,  is 
almost  knee-deep,  and  the  wagons  wallow  through  it  at  the 
rate  of  about  two  miles  an  horn-.  The  bodies  of  the  march- 
ing convicts,  kept  warm  by  the  exertion  of  walking  in  hea^y 
leg-fetters,  steam  a  little  in  the  raw,  chilly  air,  but  a  large 
number  of  the  men  have  lost  or  removed  their  shoes,  and 
are  wading  through  the  freezing  mud  with  bare  feet.  The 
Government,  influenced,  I  presume,  by  considerations  of 
economy,  furnishes  its  exiles  in  summer  and  fall  with  low 
shoes  or  slippers  called  kat%  instead  of  with  boots.  These 
hati  are  made  by  contract  and  by  the  thousand,  of  the 
cheapest  materials,  and  by  the  Government  itself  are  ex- 
pected to  last  only  six  weeks.^  As  a  matter  of  fact  they 
frequently  do  not  last  one  week. 

A  high  officer  of  the  exile  administration  told  me  that  it 
was  a  common  thing  to  see  exiles  leave  Tomsk  or  Kras- 
noyarsk with  new  hati  and  come  into  the  second  etape 
barefooted — their  shoes  having  gone  to  pieces  in  less  than 
two  days.  Even  when  the  hati  hold  out  for  their  nominal 
period  of  service,  they  are  not  fitted  to  the  feet  of  the 
wearers  ;   they  cannot  be  secured,  because  they  have  no 

1  Circular  Letter  of  the  Prison  Department,  No.  180. 


400  SIBERIA 

laces ;  they  are  so  low  that  thoy  fill  with  mire  and  water 
and  are  constantly  sticking  fast  or  coming  oft'  in  mnd-holes ; 
and  on  such  a  road  as  that  between  Achinsk  and  Krasnoy- 
arsk "scores  of  convicts  either  remove  their  shoes  and  hang 
them  around  their  necks,  or  throw  them  away  altogether, 
and  walk  for  days  at  a  time  with  bare  feet,  through  mud 
whose  temperature  is  little  above  the  freezing-point. 

As  the  party,  wet,  tired,  and  hungry,  approaches  one  of 
the  little  log  \dllages  that  lie  along  its  route,  the  stdrosta,  or 
chief  of  the  artel,  asks  the  convoy  ofi&cer  to  allow  them 
to  sing  the  "  begging  song  "  as  they  pass  through  the  settle- 
ment. The  desired  permission  is  gi*anted ;  certain  prisoners 
are  designated  to  receive  the  expected  alms ;  the  convicts 
all  remove  their  gray  caps ;  and  entering  the  village  with  a 
slow,  dragging  step,  as  if  they  hardly  had  strength  enough 
to  crawl  along,  they  begin  their  mournful  appeal  for  pity. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  emotions  roused  in  me  l)y  this 
song  when  I  heard  it  for  the  first  time.  We  were  sitting, 
one  cold,  raw,  autumnal  day,  in  a  dirty  post-station  on  the 
great  Siberian  road,  waiting  for  horses.  Suddenly  my 
attention  was  attracted  by  a  peculiar,  low-pitched,  quaver- 
ing sound  which  came  to  us  from  a  distance,  and  which, 
although  made  apparently  by  human  voices,  did  not  resem- 
ble anything  that  I  had  ever  before  heard.  It  was  not  sing- 
ing, nor  chanting,  nor  wailing  for  the  dead,  but  a  strange 
blending  of  all  three.  It  suggested  vaguely  the  confused  and 
commingled  sobs,  moans,  and  entreaties  of  human  beings 
who  were  being  subjected  to  tortm'e,  but  whose  sufferings 
were  not  acute  enough  to  seek  expression  in  shrieks  or  high- 
pitched  cries.  As  the  sound  came  nearer  we  went  out  into 
the  street  in  front  of  the  station-house  and  saw  approaching 
a  chained  party  of  about  a  hundred  bare-headed  convicts, 
who,  surrounded  by  a  cordon  of  soldiers,  were  marching 
slowly  through  the  settlement,  singing  the  "  exiles'  begging 
song."  No  attempt  was  made  by  the  singers  to  pitch  their 
voices  in  harmony,  or  to  pronounce  the  words  in  unison ; 


DEPOETATION   BY   ETAPE  401 

there  were  no  pauses  or  rests  at  the  ends  of  the  lines ; 
and  I  could  not  make  out  any  distinctly  marked  rhythm. 
The  singers  seemed  to  be  constantly  breaking  in  upon  one 
another  with  slightly  modulated  variations  of  the  same 
slow,  melancholy  air,  and  the  effect  produced  was  that  of  a 
rude  fugue,  or  of  a  funeral  chant,  so  arranged  as  to  be  sung 
like  a  round  or  catch  by  a  hundred  male  voices,  each  inde- 
pendent of  the  others  in  time  and  melody,  but  all  following 
a  certain  scheme  of  vocalization,  and  taking  up  by  tm-ns  the 
same  dreary,  wailing  theme.     The  words  were  as  follows : 

Have  pity  on  us,  O  our  fathers  ! 
Don't  forget  the  unwilhng  travelers, 
Don't  forget  the  long-imprisoned. 
Feed  us,  O  our  fathers  —  help  us! 
Feed  and  help  the  poor  and  needy  ! 
Have  compassion,  O  our  fathers ! 
Have  compassion,  O  our  mothers! 
For  the  sake  of  Christ,  have  mercy 
On  the  prisoners  —  the  shut-up  ones ! 
Behind  walls  of  stone  and  gratings, 
Behind  oaken  doors  and  padlocks, 
Behind  bars  and  locks  of  iron, 
We  are  held  in  close  confinement. 
We  have  parted  from  our  fathers, 
From  our  mothers ; 
We  from  all  our  kin  have  parted, 
We  are  prisoners ; 
Pity  us,  O  our  fathers ! 

If  you  can  imagine  these  words,  half  sung,  half  chanted, 
slowly,  in  broken  time  and  on  a  low  key,  by  a  hundred 
voices,  to  an  accompaniment  made  by  the  jingling  and 
clashing  of  chains,  you  will  have  a  faint  idea  of  the  milos- 
erdnai/a,  or  exiles'  begging  song.  Rude,  artless,  and  in- 
harmonious as  the  appeal  for  pity  was,  I  had  never  in  my 
life  heard  anything  so  mournful  and  depressing.  It  seemed 
to  be  the  half-articulate  expression  of  all  the  grief,  the 
misery,  and  the  despair  that  had  been  felt  by  generations 
26 


402  SIBERIA 

of  luinian  beings  in  the  etnpes^  the  forwarding  prisons,  and 
the  mines. 

As  the  party  niarehed  slowly  along  the  muddy  street  be- 
tween the  lines  of  gray  log  houses,  children  and  peasant 
women  appeared  at  the  doors  with  their  hands  full  of  bread, 
meat,  eggs,  or  othei'  articles  of  food,  which  they  put  into  the 
caps  or  bags  of  the  three  or  four  shaven-headed  convicts 
who  acted  as  alms-collectors.  The  jingling  of  chains  and 
the  wailing  voices  of  the  exiles  grew  gradually  fainter 
and  fainter  as  the  party  passed  up  the  street,  and  when  the 
sounds  finally  died  away  in  the  distance,  and  we  turned  to 
reenter  the  post-station,  I  felt  a  strange  sense  of  dejection, 
as  if  the  day  had  suddenly  grown  colder,  darker,  and  more 
di'eary,  and  the  cares  and  sorrows  of  life  more  burdensome 
and  oppressive. 

At  the  first  privdl,  or  halt,  that  a  party  makes  after  pass- 
ing through  a  village,  the  food  that  has  been  collected  is 
distributed  and  eaten,  and  the  convicts,  somewhat  refreshed, 
resume  their  march.  Late  in  the  evening  they  arrive,  wet 
and  weary,  at  an  etape,  where,  after  supper  and  the  pere- 
clichka^  or  roll-call,  they  are  locked  up  in  the  close,  unventi- 
lated  kdmeras  for  the  night.  Most  of  them  are  in  a  shiver — 
or,  as  they  sometimes  call  it,  a  "gypsy  sweat" — from  cold 
and  from  long  exposure  to  rain ;  but  they  have  neither  dry 
clothing  to  put  on  nor  blankets  with  which  to  cover  them- 
selves, and  must  lie  down  upon  the  hard  plank  ndri,  or  upon 
the  floor,  and  seek  warmth  in  close  contact  with  one  another. 
Some  of  them  have,  perhaps,  a  change  of  clothing  in  their 
gray  linen  bags,  but  both  bags  and  clothing  have  been 
exposed  for  eight  or  ten  hom-s  to  a  pouring  rain,  and  are 
completely  soaked  through.  If  the  Grovernment  really  cared 
anything  about  the  comfort  or  health  of  exiles  on  the  road, 
it  would  f ui'nish  convoy  ofiicers  with  tarpaulins  or  sheets  of 
oilcloth  to  put  over  and  protect  the  exiles'  baggage  in  rainy 
weather.  This  would  add  a  mere  trifle  to  the  cost  of  exile 
transportation,  and  it  would  make  all  the  difference  between 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE 


403 


life  and  death  to  hundreds  of  weak  or  half-sick  human  beings, 
who  come  into  an  etape  soaked  to  the  skin  after  a  march  of 
twenty  miles  in  a  cold  rain,  and  who  have  no  dry  clothing 


AN  OLD  CONVICT  BEGGING  FOOD. 


to  put  on.  The  very  money  spent  for  the  bmial  of  the  poor 
wretches  who  die  from  croup,  pleurisy,  or  pneumonia,  as  a 
result  of  sleeping  in  wet  clothes  on  the  road,  would  buy 
a  substantial  tarpaulin  for  every  exile  baggage-wagon  in 
Siberia — and  yet  the  tarpaulins  are  not  bought.     If  it  be 


4(U  SIBERIA 

asked  why  not,  I  can  only  say,  because  the  officials  who  care 
have  not  the  power,  and  the  officials  who  have  the  power 
do  not  care.  1  went  through  Siberia  with  the  words  "  Why 
so  t "  and  "  Why  not  ?  "  upon  my  lips,  and  this,  in  effect,  was 
the  answer  that  I  everywhere  received. 

"  I  have  recommended  again  and  again,"  said  a  high  offi- 
cer of  the  exile  administration  to  me,  "  that  the  convicts  be 
taken  to  their  destinations  in  summer  and  in  wagons,  instead 
of  being  obliged  to  walk  throughout  the  whole  year.  I  have 
shown  conclusively,  by  exact  figui'es  and  carefully  prepared 
estimates,  that  the  transportation  of  exiles  from  Achinsk  to 
Irkutsk  in  wagons,  and  in  summer,  would  not  only  be  infi- 
nitely more  merciful  and  humane  than  the  present  method 
of  forwarding  them  on  foot  the  year  round,  but  would  actu- 
ally cost  fom-teen  rubles  less  per  man,  on  account  of  the 
saving  in  time,  food,  and  winter  clothing." 

"Why,  then,  is  it  not  done!"  I  inquired. 

His  only  reply  was  a  significant  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

"I  have  repeatedly  protested,"  said  another  exile  officer, 
"against  the  acceptance,  from  dishonest  contractors,  of  ar- 
ticles of  exile  clothing  that  did  not  correspond  with  the 
specification  or  the  samples;  but  I  have  accomplished  noth- 
ing. Shoes  so  worthless  that  they  fall  to  pieces  in  two  days 
are  accepted  in  j)lace  of  the  good  shoes  that  ought  to  be 
fm'uished,  and  the  exiles  go  barefooted.  All  that  I  can  do 
is  to  lay  before  my  superiors  the  facts  of  the  case." 

Wliile  in  the  city  of  Irkutsk,  I  called  one  day  upon  Mr. 
Petrof,  the  acting-governor  of  the  province,  and  found  in 
his  office  Colonel  Zagarin,  the  inspector  of  exile  transporta- 
tion for  Eastern  Siberia.  The  latter  had  brought  to  the 
governor  some  kati,  or  exile  shoes,  that  had  just  been  ac- 
cepted by  the  pro^dncial  administration,  and  was  exhibiting 
them  side  by  side  with  the  original  samples  that  had  been 
fm'nished  as  models  to  the  contractor.  The  accepted  shoes 
did  not  resemble  the  models,  they  were  perfectly  worthless, 
and  might  have  been  made,  I  think,  by  the  thousand,  for 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE  405 

ten  or  fifteen  cents  a  pair.  Colonel  Zagarin  was  protesting 
ag'ainst  the  acceptance  of  such  shoes,  and  was  asking  for  an 
investigation.  The  fraud  was  so  manifest  and  so  glaring, 
and  the  results  of  it  would  be  so  calamitous  to  thousands  of 
poor  wi'etches  who  would  wear  these  hatl  for  a  day  or  two 
and  then  be  forced  to  walk  barefooted  over  icy  ground  or 
through  freezing  mud,  that  I  thought  something  would  cer- 
tainly be  done  about  it.  Upon  my  retm*n  from  the  mines 
of  the  Trans-Baikal  five  months  later,  I  asked  Colonel  Zaga- 
rin what  had  been  the  result  of  the  protest  that  he  had  made 
to  the  governor  in  my  presence.  He  replied,  "It  had  no 
result." 

"And  were  those  shoes  issued  to  marching  exile  parties!" 

"They  were." 

I  asked  no  more  questions. 

I  could  fm'nish  innumerable  illustrations  of  the  way  in 
which  the  life  of  convicts  on  the  road  is  made  almost  in- 
tolerable by  official  indifference  or  fraud;  but  it  is  perhaps 
unnecessary  to  do  so.  The  results  of  that  life  are  shown 
by  the  records  of  the  hospitals  and  lazarets,  and  by  the  ex- 
traordinarily high  rate  of  mortality  in  exile  parties.  Hun- 
di-eds  of  prisoners,  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  fall  sick  on 
the  road,  and  after  being  carried  for  a  week,  or  perhaps 
two  weeks,  in  jolting  telegas^  are  finally  left  to  recover  or  to 
die  in  one  of  the  etape  lazarets  between  Achinsk  and  Irkutsk. 
It  seems  barbarous,  and  of  course  it  is  barbarous,  to  carry 
forward  in  a  springless  telega^  regardless  of  weather,  an  im- 
fortunate  man  or  woman  who  has  been  taken  sick  with 
pneumonia  or  typhus  fever  on  the  road;  but,  under  existing 
circumstances,  there  is  nothing  else  for  a  convoy  officer  to 
do.  He  and  his  soldiers  must  go  on  with  the  exile  party, 
and  he  cannot  leave  the  sick  for  five  days  in  a  deserted 
etape  wholly  without  attendance.  He  is  forced,  therefore, 
to  carry  them  along  until  they  either  die  or  reach  one  of 
the  mdely  separated  lazarets,  where  they  can  be  left  and 
cared  for. 


400  SIBERIA 

I^Iauy  times  on  the  i>-reat  Siberian  road,  when  T  had  been 
j(^lted  nntil  my  pnlse  had  become  imperceptible  at  the  wrist 
from  weakness,  sleeplessness,  and  incessant  shocks  to  the 
spinal  cord  and  the  brain,  and  when  it  seemed  to  me  that  I 
eonld  endure  no  more,  I  maintained  my  grip  by  thinking 
of  the  hundreds  of  exiled  men  and  women  who,  sick  unto 
death,  had  been  carried  over  this  same  road  in  open  tele- 
gas ;  who  had  endured  this  same  jolting  while  their  heads 
ached  and  throbbed  with  the  quick  pulses  of  fever;  who 
had  lain  for  many  hours  at  a  time  on  water-soaked  straw 
in  a  pitiless  storm  while  suffering  from  pneumonia,  and 
who  had  nothing  to  sustain  them  except  the  faint  hope 
of  reaching  at  last  some  fever-infected  lazaret.  If  men 
can  bear  all  this,  I  thought,  we  ought  not  to  complain 
of  our  trivial  hardships,  nor  break  down  under  a  little 
unusual  fatigue. 

The  sick  who  live  to  reach  an  etape  lazaret  may  hope  to 
die  under  shelter  and  in  peace;  but,  if  the  reports  of  the 
exile  administration  are  to  be  trusted,  they  can  hardly  ex- 
pect to  be  restored  to  health.  Mr.  Galkine  Wras,skoy,  the 
chief  of  the  prison  administration,  in  an  official  report  to 
the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  describes  the  condition  of  the 
lazarets  between  Achinsk  and  Irkutsk  as  follows : 

Up  to  the  year  1885  the  lazarets  necessary  for  the  accommoda- 
tion of  exiles  taken  sick  on  the  great  exile  road  had  not  been  built, 
nor  had  any  provision  been  made  for  regular  surgeons,  or  even  for 
feldsliers}  According  to  paragraph  5  of  section  363  of  the  "  Laws 
relating  to  Exiles,"  it  is  the  duty  of  civil  and  military  surgeons,  in 
places  where  etape  officers  are  quartered,  to  examine  the  sick  and 
give  them  necessary  aid.  Civil  surgeons,  however,  do  not  live  in 
etape  villages,  and  army  surgeons  are  found  only  at  the  etapes  of 
Sheragiilskaya,  Birusinskaya,  and  Tiretskaya,  In  these  places 
there  are  army  lazarets  with  six  beds  each,  for  the  accommodation 
of  sick  soldiers  belonging  to  the  convoy  commands.  All  prisoners 
taken   sick  on  the  road  between  Achinsk  and  Irkutsk,  up  to  the 

1 A  feldsher  is  a  sort  of  hospital  steward,  who,  in  the  absence  of  a  regular 
surgeon,  performs  the  latter's  duties. 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE  407 

year  1885,  have  been  treated  at  these  three  efapes  ^  —  not,  however, 
in  the  army  lazarets,  but  in  the  common  cells  of  the  etape  build- 
ings. There  they  have  been  kept,  not  only  without  separation 
according  to  age,  sex,  or  nature  of  disease,  but  without  any  of  the 
conveniences  and  appliances  that  a  lazaret  should  have.  In  the 
cells  set  apart  for  sick  exiles  there  were  neither  nurses,  nor 
hospital  linen,  nor  beds,  nor  bedding,  nor  even  dishes  for  food.^ 

A  sick  exile  who  reaches  one  of  the  etapes  named  in  this 
report,  and  who  is  put  into  a  common  prison  cell  where 
there  are  "neither  nui'ses,  nor  hospital  linen,  nor  beds,  nor 
bedding,  nor  even  dishes  for  food,"  cannot  reasonably  en- 
tertain a  very  sanguine  expectation  of  recovery.  Most  of 
them  do  recover,  but,  nevertheless,  the  death-rate  in  exile 
parties  during  their  march  from  Tomsk  to  Irkutsk,  if  car- 
ried through,  an  entire  year,  would  amount  to  from  twelve 
to  fifteen  per  cent.^ 

It  is  not  surprising  that  exiles  sometimes  endeavor  to 
escape  from  a  life  so  full  of  miseries  as  this  by  making  a 
break  for  liberty  between  etapes.  The  more  experienced 
brodydgs,  or  recidi\dsts,  generally  try  to  get  away  by  ex- 
changing names  and  identities  with  some  forced  colonist 
who  is  soon  to  reach,  his  destination;  but  now  and  then  two 
or  three  daring  or  desperate  convicts  attempt  to  escape 
"with  a  hm-rah" — that  is,  by  a  bold  dash  through  the  line  of 
soldiers.  They  are  instantly  fired  upon,  and  one  or  more  of 
them  is  usually  brought  to  the  ground.  The  soldiers  have 
a  saying  that  "A  bullet  wiU  find  a  runaway,"  and  a  slug 

iThe  distances  between  these  e'topes  2  Report  of  Mr.  Galkine  Wrdsskoy, 

are    as  follows  :  Achinsk  to  Birusin-  chief  of  the  prison  administration,  for 

skaya,  352  miles  ;  Birusinskaya  to  She-  the  year  1885. 

ragiilskaya,  200  miles;  Sheragiilskaya  sin  1883  seventy  exiles  died  between 

to  Tiretskaya,  90  miles ;  Tiretskaya  to  Tomsk  and  Achinsk,  in  the  course  of  a 

Irkutsk,  139  miles.    A  marching  party  journey  that  occupies  about  twenty-one 

of  exiles  makes,  on  an  average,  about  days.     This  rate  of  mortality,  if  it  had 

80  miles  a  week.     The  results  of  the  been    maintained    for  a  year,   would 

state  of  affairs  described  by  Mr.  Gal-  have  resulted  in  the  death  of  1217  ex- 

kine  Wrasskoy  may  be   seen   in   the  iles  out  of  the  whole  number  of  7865 

official   reports   of   the   sickness    and  making  the  journey.     (Vide  Report  of 

mortality  in  the  lazarets  of  these  three  the  Inspector  of  Exile  Transportation 

eta2)es.     (Appendix  G.)  in  Western  Siberia  for  1884,  pp.  32,  33.) 


408 


SIBERIA 


A    JJl.tVK    lOK    LIBl  Kll 


DEPORTATION   BY   ETAPE  409 

from  a  Berdau  rifle  is  always  the  fii'st  messenger  sent  after 
a  fugitive  who  tries  to  escape  "with  a  hm-rah."  Now  and 
then,  when  the  party  happens  to  be  passing  through  a 
dense  forest,  the  flying  convicts  get  mider  cover  so  quickly 
that  the  soldiers  can  only  fire  into  the  bushes  at  random, 
and  in  such  cases  the  runaways  make  good  then*  escape. 
As  soon  as  they  reach  a  hiding-place  they  free  themselves 
from  their  leg-fetters  by  pounding  the  circular  bands  into 
long  ellipses  with  a  stone  and  slipping  them  over  their  heels, 
and  then  join  some  detachment  of  the  great  army  of  hrod- 
ydgs  which  is  constantly  marching  westward  through  the 
woods  in  the  direction  of  the  Urals. 

The  life  of  exiles  on  the  road,  which  I  have  tried  to 
roughly  sketch,  continues,  with  little  to  break  its  monotony, 
for  many  months.  In  sunshine  and  in  storm,  through  dust 
and  through  nmd,  the  convicts  march  slowly  but  steadily 
eastward,  crossing  the  gi'eat  Siberian  rivers  on  pendulum 
ferry-boats;  toiling  up  the  sides  of  forest-clad  mountains  in 
di-enching  rains;  wading  through  mire  in  swampy  valleys; 
sleeping  every  night  in  the  heavy  mephitic  atmosphere  of 
overcrowded  etapes,  .and  drawing  nearer,  day  by  day,  to  the 
dreaded  mines  of  the  Trans-Baikal. 


27 


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